


extracurricular

by mobilisinmobili



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angry Yuri Plisetsky, Anxiety, Bad Parenting, Bullying, Coach Victor Nikiforov, Detention, Dysfunctional Family, Fist Fights, High School, Homophobic Language, Overworking, Panic Attacks, Parental yuuri, Podium Family, Poor Yakov Feltsman, Supportive Victor Nikiforov, Suspension, Teen Angst, Yakov Feltsman Is So Done, Yuri Plisetsky Needs a Hug, parental victor nikiforov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2019-11-07 22:13:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 41,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17969015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobilisinmobili/pseuds/mobilisinmobili
Summary: Extracurricular : (of an activity at a school or college) pursued in addition to the normal course of study..OrThe one where Yuri’s parents came out of nowhere to (ruin his life) try to actually parent.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of off canon  
> Post Grand Prix. Yuuri moved his home rink to Russia to skate under Yakov since Victor decided to return.  
> Yuri is technically 17. I know some elements make no sense, like the diploma thing since he is a national athlete, but it's for the story!

Victor felt his blood freeze milliseconds before his brain had even registered what was wrong.

One of the younger skaters who was _supposed_ to be on the opposite side of the rink with the other lower kids group had somehow ended up all the way over to where Victor had been giving Yuri pointers for his newest short program.

Be it out of cockiness or of a dare, the punk hadn’t even hesitated before following through on his double axel, which was still shaky to say the least. But that wasn’t what froze Victor in place. What froze the silver haired man in place was the fact that a split second before taking off in what was supposed to be a  triple toe, Yuri’s attention was stolen by something off to the side near the bleachers behind the rink wall.

And then fumbled, Victor’s eyes had widened, lips parted slightly in surprise.

And then he was seeing everything in slow motion.

A flash of white from the kid’s jacket in the air, moving forward with considerable momentum joined Yuri’s all black form trying to re-adjust mid air before being shoved away by the kid.

And then everything burst back into normal speed as the full body weight behind the shove mixed with the enormous amount of momentum Yuri had already accumulated mid jump sent him colliding hard on his back to the rink wall before crashing down on his front sprawled out, face down on the cold ice.

“Yurochka!”

“F-Fu…” the blonde wheezed out, black gloved fingers grasping against the ice as he struggled to move from his prone position.

“Yuri! Are you alright?!” There was a blur of raven hair racing towards the blonde within seconds, turning for a split second to motion Victor to check on the younger one before turning back to check on Yuri.

Victor nodded before turning sharply, settling a bemused glare on the younger who was beginning to look more and more petrified with each second.

Which was understandable.

Angry Victor was rare. But it was something that was truly terrifying as bright blue eyes narrowed, shoulders setting as hands curled into fists by his side as he skated briskly over to the kid, glaring a moment longer before speaking, words heavy with restrained fury as he tried his best to keep his words even.

“Get out.”

It wasn’t loud, but it carried as everyone froze, all eyes on them.

The younger stood frozen to the spot, eyes wide as he stood rooted.

Victor skated closer, nearly skate to skate.

“I said-” he pointed to the rink door “Get. Out.”

There was a beat of hesitation before the boy scrambled as fast as he could out of the rink, trying to put as much distance between himself and the fuming skater.

Victor turned back, quirking a brow at the sight of Yuri grappling onto Yuuri in attempt to regain his balance, still doubled over trying to catch his breath.

But his attention was on the ice or on Yuuri who seemed to be trying to calm the blonde down.

Victor followed the younger’s line of sight, brows knitting together as he caught sight of someone standing next to the coach’s bench.

“What the hell...?” Yuri muttered as he continued to stare.

“Yuri, who’s that?” Victor inquired, skating closer to the teen.

There was a beat of silence before Yuri glanced up at Victor with a look of apprehensive confusion.

“That’s-that’s my mom…”

Yuuri and Victor stared back at him.

“Stop fucking staring. I said what I said.”

“Your mother?” Yuuri repeated bewildered.

“Did I stutter?” Yuuri let it go, alternating between Yuri and his supposed mother.

“I haven’t seen her in months.” he added a little quieter.

There was moment of silence before Victor spoke.

“We should go say hello.”

Neither Yuris missed the ‘we’, but neither one hesitated to skate after him.

“Hello. My name is Victor Nikiforov. I’m standing in for Yakov today. You must be Mrs. Plisetsky.” the resemblance was uncanny.

The blonde woman flat out ignored Victor as her eyes landed on Yuri.

“Sweetie. It’s been such a long time!” she went in for a hug that Yuri barely dodged.

“Why are you here.” it was almost venomous.

“I just wanted to see how my beautiful son was doing! I wanted to watch you skate-”

“Since when do you show up to ‘watch me skate’? You’ve had _years_ to do that. Why now?”

Her smile flickered.

“I know I haven’t been able to make it to a few of your competitions but you _know_ how hectic my schedule can be.”

Victor narrowed his eyes.

He knew. Just like how his parents had always been busy as well. It hurt less as time went on, but he knew that it had to hurt the younger even just a little bit.

“If this is just a social meeting, I’d like to request it happen after practice. Yuri’s busy as well with his new short program and he needs as much time as he can-”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure what I have to say takes a little more precedence than yours. I’m his _mother,_ you know. Technically mothers outrank coaches. I mean, I’m the one making your payroll anyway.” Victor’s brow nearly reached his hairline at the rudeness.

It wouldn’t do…

But before he could utter another word, Yuri snapped, arms crossed, shoulders tensed in irritation.

“No one is out ranking anyone. I have practice to get back to, so if that’s it, you can go. It’s a little too late to make amends.”

“I’m not here to make amends.”

“Then why the fuck are you here to begin with?”

“Because, Yuri. We need to talk.”

“We’re talking.”

She rolled her eyes. Before pulling out a file from her large leather purse.

“Your father and I have come to an agreement about your future.”

“My future is skating.”

“No. It’s not.”

It would have been funny if it wasn’t so ridiculous.

Victor looked straight up affronted.

“You know your grandfather isn’t going to be alive for much longer.”

Yuuri recoiled at the emotionally empty bluntness.

“You’re going to need funds.”

“I have funds. I have sponsorships-”

“All of which are co-signed by your father.”

He could have sworn he felt his eye twitch.

“Okay. So you’re going to what? Hold my sponsorships hostage? For what?”

“We just want you to finish your schooling.”

He turned to Victor.

“Did I just hear that right?”

Victor nodded.

“You want me, a senior grand prix medalist to go back to school? What kind of shit idea is that?”

She handed him the folder.

“Your father recently got a promotion and I’ve been featuring more often which means our family is going to be scrutinized by a lot of important people.” she rattled off impatiently, dropping the kind demeanor.

“I will _not_ be having anyone using the fact that, you never graduated, against us.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“Are you serious right now?”

She just glared.

Yuri tossed the file away to the side, glaring back.

“You don’t think that maybe, just maybe, the fact that I’m one of the best skaters in the world might overshadow a fucking high school diploma?”

“You don’t know that!”

“Anyone in their right mind would know that!” he rebutted angrily.

“I don’t have time to juggle anything else with skating. That’s why I moved here in the first place.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

Yuri took a deep breath.

“I’m not doing it.”

“Yes. You are.”

“You can cut me off. I’ll just file for emancipation. I practically have already.”

“We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way. Your father has good lawyers.”

“Are you seriously threatening me with lawyers?”

“You heard me.”

Yuri’s knuckles were turning white from the grip he had on the wall, but he didn’t yell.

“Leave.” he hissed.

His mother took one last cool look around before nodding.

“I’ll see you soon.” she turned on her heels and left leaving a fuming Yuri behind.

“Yurachka…” Victor began.

“Not a word.” Yuri exhaled sharply.

“Not. One. Word.” he stook a moment longer before reaching for his phone.

“I’m calling Yakov.” Victor nodded.

“And I’m taking the day off.” he put his guards on angrily, sidestepping a concerned Yuuri.

 _Fuck this._  


	2. Chapter 2

No one had seen Yuri for the remainder of Friday. 

Or Saturday. 

He showed up on Sunday around ten, much to everyone’s relief following behind one  _ particularly  _ aggravated looking Yakov who marched over to the rink to call Victor and Yuuri over. 

Yuuri shared a puzzled look with Victor before rushing over to where Yakov was already walking away, speaking rapid fire at Yuri as the younger sulked, frown deepening. 

“He’s not skating today…” Victor had stated quietly, glancing up at the blonde’s retreating back as he put his guards on. 

Yuuri whipped his head up in surprise, noticing the distinctly, non sport apparel Yuri had on, black jeans with what looked to be a grey rink hoodie and black Docs and no skate bag in sight. 

Victor grimaced. 

“This is going to be bad…” 

“Wha-”

“Hurry up!” they heard Yakov shout from one of the empty rinkside training rooms. 

Victor shook his head. “ _ Definitely  _ not good...”

 

“You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t have the time to translate. Victor will explain later.” Yakov started in English. 

Yuuri blushed before nodding. 

“I-it’s okay.” 

Yakov turned to Victor before starting once more.

“I’ve spoken to my connections within the department of juvenile affairs.”  

Victor quirked a brow. 

“His mom sent the lawyers.” 

“Oh…” 

“At precisely 12:00 tonight, all of Yuri’s accounts will be locked. His parents have a clause stating familial power over his account.” 

Yakov paused.

“But.” Victor narrowed his eyes. 

“We’ve found a loophole.”

Yuri slouched further in his chair. 

“Which would be?” 

“If his status changes before then, it gets pushed back a week.”

Victor waited for the man to continue, sitting up straighter in his seat. 

“But he can’t file for emancipation. That will leave him with a truancy status as he hasn’t actually ‘finished’ school.”

Victor could practically feel the scowl on Yuri’s face. 

“He’s filing for temporary emancipation.” Yakov scooted in closer. 

“But he needs someone to file for adoption.” 

Victor’s eyes widened in surprise, mind in whiplash from the completely unexpected statement. 

“What?” he spluttered. 

“Someone needs to file for adoption. He needs to be adopted.” Yakov grounded out. 

“I was told I couldn’t because they have a clause against coaches or teachers. Lilia can’t either. They deemed her unfit for emotional reasons. But, they did say that you would be eligible. You and Katsuki both. ” 

Yakov nodded to Yuuri before locking eyes with Victor again.

“I didn’t want to rush into this, but for now we have no choice.The decision needs to be made today. We’ve got to get the forms in before six.” 

Victor nodded before turning to Yuuri, searching for the right words.

“Yuuri…-” he started solemnly, breaking off to find the best way forward. 

“Is something wrong? What’s happening? Is it Yuri’s parents?” Yuuri blurted out anxiously. 

“Please, just tell me.”

Victor grimaced. 

“Yuri’s in a really difficult place right now, and there’s only one way to fix it, but it’s something really big.”

Yuuri nodded, gesturing for Victor to continue. 

“If he files for full emancipation, his national athlete status will be dropped and he could be arrested for truancy. So the only solution is filing for a short term emancipation and then file for adoption.” 

Yuuri’s eyes widened. 

“A-adoption?” 

“Someone needs to put in the paper work for adoption, and neither Yakov or Lilia are eligible.”

“Are we eligible?” 

“We are. So we’d have to adopt Yuri.”

There was a tense moment of silence as Victor watched Yuuri in concern. 

“Alright.” His tone was positive.

“Alright?” Victor echoed.

“We’ve got a spare bedroom in our new place, and we’re almost always at the rink anyway. I don’t see any harm in adopting him to come live with us.” 

Victor nodded enthusiastically. Even Yakov twitched a smile. 

“Good. But that’s not all.” Yakov sobered up, switching back to rapid fire russian. 

“The one thing we couldn’t get past was, until the adoption works out, the school clause still stands. The judge let his mom pick a school, and it just happens to be right next to where you two live. The clause said ‘school’, but the end goal is really a GED.”

Victor didn’t even know where to begin.. It was a mess. 

“There’s only a month left before the next competition. He doesn’t have time…” Victor replied. 

“We worked out an agreement with the school as well.” Yakov replied. 

“He’ll go until noon and then come to the rink. They said they’d send someone once a week for a two hour tutoring session, so that will probably be on Saturday or Sunday.”

“So are we” he gestered to Yuuri “-standing in as his legal guardians?” 

Yakov nodded. 

“Shouldn’t be too bad, but if something happens at school,  they’ll call you.” 

“When does he start?” 

“Tomorrow. We’ll have to move everything in today.” 

Yuri groaned, scowl becoming more and more prominent. 

“We’ll go set up Yuri’s room. We can meet back at house after you pick up his stuff.” 

Yakov nodded before standing, gesturing for Yuri to follow. 

“We’ll be over by 3 so you two can sign the adoption forms so I can  turn evertthing in.”

And without another word he marched out with Yuri in tow leaving a reeling Victor and Yuuri. 

Victor took a deep breath before sighing.

It was going to be an interesting week...


	3. Chapter 3

It was nearing four in the morning when everything was finally done.

Yakov had rushed between Victor and Yuuri’s place with stacks of forms while whoever was available continued to help Yuri unpack and move into his new room at the end of the hall. Thankfully it hadn’t been too long since they moved from Victor’s studio apartment to an actual house with more rooms, so the room itself still had a new feel to it. Everything from the crisp new bed sheets, pillows, and blankets adding just a little more home-ness to the bare room.

Victor had, thoughtfully, rushed in to a local furniture shop on the way back with more of Yuri’s things and bought a decent sturdy desk and chair, requesting that someone come by within the next couple of hours to put it all together.

No one was going to mention that the store did not, in fact, have out of store service, or that he may or may not have purposefully dropped his ID in front of the manager while taking one of his multiple cards out to pay.

There may or may not have been a stammered question from the said manager who may or may not have been met with one of Victor’s signature smiles while he posted a selfie from the store.

They had followed directly behind Victor’s car and had the desk set up within minutes. Unbeknownst to them, Yakov would probably have his lawyers visit the store sometime soon to ensure secrecy, but that didn’t really matter to him right now.

What mattered was the fact that the room looked so incredibly...bare…

While the house itself was tastefully decorated, he’d opted for the minimal feel with touches of color here and there.

The guest room was just various shades of crisp white and grey. White bed, white wood, and glass desk. White chair. Neutral grey curtains. The only other color was the dark wood flooring, but that didn’t really count.

And while the black and white bedspread added _some_ color, he couldn’t help but feel that it was so distinctly _not_ Yuri.

He’d have to remember to get a leopard print rug or something. Yuri would probably like that. He nodded to himself as he made his way back to the car to grab more things.

* * *

 

“Oh my god.” Yuri shot up from his prone position on one of the sofas.

His phone slipped out of his hand and landed face down on the rug.

Victor woke from his dozing, eyes flying open as his body tensed. Yuuri glanced up from his computer in concern.

“Wh-” Victor slurred drowsily.

“Was there someone we forgot to bring?” Yuuri asked calmly, closing his laptop as Victor laid his head back on the pillow on Yuuri’s lap.

“It’s fucking three o'clock.”

“Language,” Victor muttered sleepily, eyes closing once more.

“You should get some sleep, Yuri. You’ve got school tomorrow.” Yuuri responded calmly, running his hands through Victor’s soft silver locks.

“School is the _least_ of my problems right now!” Yuri replied, grabbing impatiently for his phone.

“School starts at eight. But they said I have to be there at seven to go over some things. But practice starts at six, so do I go to practice or not?” they stared at Victor for clarification.

Victor in turn slowly peeked open an eye.

“You can’t practice and shower _and_ make it to school even if I drove you over. You’d be late.”

“Yeah, but Yakov hasn’t told me anything yet.”

“Yakov is demanding, but he’s not _that_ demanding, Yuri. You’ll be fine.”

There was a moment of hesitation before Victor peeked an eye open again.

“That reminds me, did we ever bring your practice bag over?”

“I left it at the rink since I’m going to be going straight there at noon anyway.”

Victor nodded, happy with the answer.

“We’ll leave around six thirty.” Victor rubbed at his tired eyes before sitting up.

“You should get some sleep.” he stared pointedly at Yuri before tugging on Yuuri’s sleeve.

“You too.” he continued.

“Yakov is going to run everyone into the ground tomorrow. Gotta rest while you can.” He muttered sleepily.

“Just me?”

“You, me, Yuri. Since Georgi didn’t medal in the last one. But everyone else is doing their hell day tomorrow.”

“The entire rink?” Yuri butted in.

“Mostly. Apparently, it’s going to be shared for an hour by some sports program.” Victor answered with a yawn.

“I’ll see you at six thirty,” he said with a final wave.

“Get some sleep, Yuri. You’ve got a long day tomorrow.” Yuuri followed behind, with a tired smile.

And within the few seconds it took for the two to make it upstairs to their bed, Yuri had an idea.

It was bound to be a shit day anyway, he figured.

_Might as well…_

* * *

 

They ended up at the school half an hour earlier than expected, pulling up to the front of the, thankfully empty school in Victor’s sleek black Maserati.

The trip to the school was surprisingly calm, even after Yakov had found Yuri practicing his quads in the empty rink at five in the morning.

It was just luck that he arrived right on time to see Yuri’s first stumble in the past two hours. It didn’t help that the blond fumbled the landing as well, dangerously close to having fallen altogether….

“You know, he’s really mellowed out over the years,” Victor said conversationally as he unbuckled himself.

Yuri scoffed, maneuvering his way out with his considerably heavy backpack, stuffed with binders and loose leaf and other necessary school supplies.

Victor locked the car behind them as he walked briskly to the other side.

“The first time he caught me skating alone at three in the morning, he took my skates.” Victor chuckled at the memory.

“And he locked the rental room.”

Yuri quirked a brow.

“He wouldn’t let me skate for a week, but he made me sit and watch every practice.”

“That’s...that’s so extra.”

Victor shrugged.

“I was practicing quads when I wasn’t supposed to be doing quads at all. He saw me fall really badly once in the beginning. It’s just to make sure you don’t accidentally die alone out on the ice.”

The blonde cringed.

“Damn…” he muttered, looking around the courtyard.

Bookbag on his back and not a single article of practice worthy clothes on at six thirty Am was _beyond_ surreal.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they made their way up the short flight of stairs to the front and into the school itself.

“Hmmm…” Victor hummed noncommittedly, looking around at the dull off white walls lined with metal lockers.

“What?”

“I’m just glad that I didn’t have to do this. It all looks so...dead.”

Yuri sighed.

“It does…”

“But you only have to be here for four hours. And then you’re free.”

“From Monday to Friday… That’s utter shit.”

Victor didn’t deem a reply, stepping forward and knocking on the door labeled headmaster.

“Come in.”

The two shared a silent glance before entering. And within moments, real-life Victor was gone, replaced instead with camera Victor, and in all honesty, it creeped Yuri the _fuck_ out just how fast the man could change…

“Headmaster Loitin. My name is Victor Nikiforov. I’m Yuri’s current guardian.”

The headmaster greeted them with a wide smile, reaching out to shake Victor’s hand.

“Mr. Nikiforov. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I was extremely surprised when we realized who we were going to be dealing with.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes marginally.

There was something… _off._ About the man.

But he was startled out of his thoughts as Victor placed his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders, moving him to the front.

“This is Yuri Plisetsky. A force to be reckoned with in his own right.” Yuri erased the emotions off his face.

“Ah yes, Mrs. Plisetsky did mention something about Yuri’s extracurricular hobbies.”

Even Victor froze momentarily, hands gripping fractionally tighter before laughing lightly.

“Oh yes. He’s very active for his age. It’s going to be difficult to juggle both things at once. He doesn’t really have much time to spare.”

_Interesting…_

If Yuri wasn’t wrong, he could swear he knew that tone.

Victor’s protective tone.

Was the man really engaging in passive aggressive tone modulated arguments for his sake...??

“Well, we’ll definitely keep that in mind with the first few weeks. But ultimately, he’s here to learn. Everything else takes the back burner.”

The man was getting to Victor too. He could feel it.

But of course, perfect Victor had perfect emotional control.

“Very true. We’ll definitely be taking steps to make sure he has his priorities in order.”

They started for a moment before the headmaster broke eye contact, motioning for them to sit as he took his own seat.

“So, now that we’ve found our official guardian for Yuri, we just need a few basic emergency paperwork to be filled out. I know you are probably a _very_ busy man with your… work.”

Victor hummed noncommittedly.

And with one last hidden glare, he grabbed the file labeled with Yuri’s name and turn to make his way out of the door.

“Call me if you need anything.” Victor nodded to Yuri before he made his way out, back to the safety of his car so he could begin planning whatever the fuck it was that he was going to do to deal with that man…

* * *

 

As expected, Yakov did have every intention of running the two into the ground, Victor in particular.

He had a sneaking suspicion that Yakov hadn’t completely gotten over the Japan thing… But he had left on a sudden errand, leaving them a list of things he expected them to be able to do perfectly by the time he returned, leaving the two to an unusually empty rink.

He saw Yuuri come out of his nth sit spin when the building doors opened, followed by what looked to be around twelve overly excited teenagers, decked out in everything from sweatpants to leggings and shorts.

The shorts would _definitely_ regret…

But that wasn’t the important thing.

The important thing was the teen at the very back who looked like he was plotting murder, clad in joggers and an uncharacteristically baggy shirt with a glare that looked like it would melt steel.

Yuuri came to a stop next to Victor as he stared.

“What are the odds... “

“He’s going to be so irritated,” Victor responded solemnly, eyes following the adult who stood at the front of the group. The one who was, no doubt, the PE teacher.

“Alright, everyone! Settle down, settle down! I know you’re excited, but this is serious business. No one is going to get hurt today. Do I make myself clear?”

There was a chorus of yeses.

Victor didn’t miss the look of absolute irritation that was growing on Yuri’s face.

“We’re going to hand out shoes right now. Pick a place to sit and make sure you tie them tight!”

Victor shared a silent look with Yuuri before putting his guards on and exiting towards the locker rooms away from the rowdy group.

He wasn’t Yuri’s coach, but he’d be damned if he sat by and just watched the kid be forced to wear those god awful rental skates with their nonexistent support.

He knew where Yuri kept his bag, and regardless of his feelings for having his things touched, he had a feeling that he’d forgive Victor just this once.

So he didn’t hesitate to grab the whole bag and march out to where the group was still getting their skates handed out.

“You’re not skating in those,” Victor ordered, dropping the bag by Yuri’s side on the bench.

“And that shirt is _way_ too big.”

Eyes had started finding their way over.

And then the whispers began.

_“That’s Victor Nikiforov!”_

“ _No way!”_

“ _That means the new kid really is Plisetsky!”_

Victor quirked a brow at the last one.

Yuri rolled his eyes in response, moving to unzip his bag before someone caught his arm.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” the PE teacher started sternly.

“This is my skate bag. I told you, I skate here.” it was surprisingly less caustic than what Victor had been bracing for.

“Yes, Mr. Plisetsky, you have said that but we are all in the same class, so everyone is going to get the same thing.”

He just stared as if the man had gone mad.

“I understand that you’ve taken classes, but everyone can improve. I’m sure today’s class will help you in some way or another.”

“He’s not skating in those skates. He has his own skates.” Victor replied.

“And who might you be?” the tone itself made Victor’s usually serene blues narrow.

Victor Nikiforov.  time consecutive world championship and grand prix gold medalist to say the least. Coach Feltsman won’t be back for another hour, so by rink rules, I’m the main coach, and he-” he nodded to Yuri “-is under my coaching until Feltsman returns.”

The PE teacher crossed his arms.

“He’s on a school excursion, in _my_ class. I make the rules.”

“Maybe within school property-” he nudged the man’s hand off of Yuri’s arm.

“-but this rink is under _my_ authority until further notice. I can and I will bar this class from the ice if need be.”

The glared in silence until the PE teacher muttered, looking away.

“Fine! But, _but,_ since it’s _your_ ice, you teach the class.”

Victor looked straight affronted, turning to gaze over the teens.

“Who here actually knows how to skate?” Victor queried.

Everyone save Yuri raised their hands.

“Forwards and backward.”

A few of the hands went down.

Victor sighed before turning to face the teacher looking beyond bemused. 

"Plisetsky stays with the group." 

"He has a competition in less than three weeks. spending an hour working on basics is a ridiculous waste of time." 

"The teacher quirked a brow."

"This is still a school hour. I could care less about what he does outside of school, but for now he's in PE and he'll participate with the rest of the class." 

"He shouldn't have to be taking PE anyway. He trains for six days out of the week. Fitness wise this is leaps below his schedule."

"I'll write him up for skipping class." 

"Are you serious..." 

The teacher shrugged. "It doesn't have to be this complicated."

Victor glared incredulously before rolling his eyes. 

"I'll be calling in a meeting this week." he spat before turning back to the students who were sitting, skates on eyes wide as they listened in to the not so quiet conversation. 

"Have you all warmed up already?" He quirked a brow. 

No one said a word, looking away sheepishly. 

Victor groaned internally, scrubbing a hand down his face before nodding. 

"Alright. Everyone on the ice. Line up on the center line."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly see Victor with a Maserati or some sort of ridiculously extra car that he got gifted.  
> Any guesses as to how the lesson will turn out?


	4. Chapter 4

 

In the time it took everyone to get on the ice, Yuri saw an idea begin to bloom within the frankly _terrifying_ confines of Victor’s brain.

He would never admit it, even under duress, but there were times when the glint in the older man’s eyes was nothing short of insane.

The same glint he had now, staring straight at Yuri, corners of his mouth upturned in the semblance of a smile.

“I don’t like the glare, Plisetsky.”

“The fu-” Yuri started, words popping out of his mouth with such ease. He didn’t even realize what he was saying until he had to catch himself with a cough.

“I don’t like the tone either.”

Victor skated over, arms crossed disapproval clear in his stance.

“I can assure you, I most certainly won’t accept any sort of attitude. Not in this rink within my valuable practice time.”

He shot Yuri a hard look before his eyes gave the group a once over making sure they were indeed listening.

“I want two laps with forward crossovers and two laps backwards.” Victor took a moment to consider before adding.

“And I want to see three _clean_ and _current_ jump sequences.”

Yuri wasted no time, taking off to start his laps as the rest of the class huddled in silence, suitably pacified by the sudden penalty.

“As for you all, to the wall and back. I want 3. If anyone falls, we’ll start again.” He shot them a sharp smile, gaze flickering to Yuri who was finishing up his second forward lap before drawing back to the students.

“Go. Now.” they took off, some shakier than others, but no falls as of yet. But Victor watched them like a hawk nonetheless.

“Hands off! No one should be holding on to anybody! If you feel like you’re going to fall, you fall by yourself.” Victor ordered sharply, sending a few falling in panic.

“Add another lap.” he ordered, eyes sweeping back to the other half of the rink where Yuri was finally starting his jumps.

“What in the world is your arm doing?!” it wasn’t a shout persay, but it still carried.

“You’re late. You’re going to under rotate.”

Yuri landed with a grimace. Of _course_ Victor fucking Nikiforov would be able to see that.

“Add another. I want four.”

Yuri didn’t hesitate to prepare once more.

“Who told you all to stop?” the teens jumped into action, surprised at the fact that Nikiforov apparently had eyes in the back of his head.

He’d been looking the other way for sure…

“Add five more.” Victor ordered, skating over to try and fix some of the more dreadful positions.

“Good. keep your balance. You don’t have to speed.” Victor admonished a group of rowdy boys.

“If I was judging, I’d have deducted that triple flip.” the group gazed over to where Yuri was taking a breath, hands on his knees.

“You didn’t even _see_ it. How would you deduct?!”

Victor looked up from the group he was helping.

“I saw the take off. The same issues you’ve had last competition. I don’t have to see the landing to know it would be the same.” Victor quirked a brow.

Yuri just glared, straightening himself to go again.

“You know what you’re doing wrong. Fix it.” Victor added before turning back to the group.

“Now I want to see you all skate backwards.”

 

It continued like that for a solid forty minutes, with Victor omnisciently critiquing both the group and Yuri who was apparently undergoing punishment. Something akin to running laps, but he was doing jumps.

Over and over and over again.

“Everyone take a five minute break. We’ll start on waltz jumps.” Victor ordered before gliding over to where Yuri was going into his nth jump.

“Give me a walk through.”

Yuri did as he was told, going step by step through his sequence.

“You put your arms in a different place in your walkthrough than you do when you jump. And your head is turning too early. Legs should be bent just a little more.”

He skated a small circle before taking off in the same jump sequence the younger had been working on.

It was downright _illegal_ how easy he made it look.

Everyone stared.

“Again.”

Yuri took a deep breath before going at it again, concentrating on fixing his errors, which earned him an appreciative nod.

“Good. Now you can join us for waltz jumps.”

Yuri stared, not entirely sure of whether Victor was being serious or not.

Especially after what he’d been ordered to do for the past forty minutes…

Calling him back to practice _waltz_ jumps just seems so...unbelievably ridiculous.

“Are you… for real?”

“Yes?”

“You want me to practice _waltz_ jumps after crushing me into the ground with triple and quad sequences for the past forty minutes?”  

“Of course. You are a part of this class after all. I can’t just have you run laps all class for being a smartass.” he could swear his eye was twitching as he accepted his fate and lined back up with his class, staggering into three rows so everyone had space.

Victor had Yuri to the far side in a row of his own, which was weird in an of itself.

But Yuri knew better.

Victor had always been fucking weird… Weird and oddly sadistic in his own way.

“The waltz jump is the very first jump you learn when you start learning jumps. We’ve skipped quite a few important steps, but I’m sure you all will manage.” Without warning,

he motioned for Yuri to come over, following the blonde with his eyes.

“Yuri, if you’d be so kind as to demonstrate.”

Yuri rolled his eyes before skating back a tad bit to give himself more room before entering the three turn and jumping a good distance off the ice, turning and landing on his opposite leg, arms in textbook position.

“Thank you.” he nodded, letting Yuri return to his spot.

“While it is a jump, you technically only rotate half way. We’ll be rotating counter clockwise, so if you can’t manage a three turn, you’ll be jumping on your left leg. Your arms are going to pull back.  Your right leg will swing up while you jump and bring both arms up together to give you more momentum . He showed them a slow walk through. You’ll land on your right leg. Bend your leg as you land.”

Victor showed them one without a three turn.

“As easy as it looks, it may take some time. No worries. Just try and get a feel for it.” he nodded, gesturing to the group to begin before skating over to Yuri.

“As for you, I want a waltz jump plus a triple toe stepped out into a double axel..”

Yuri nodded.

“And Yurochka?”

“What?”

“If I see you flub a waltz jump, I’ll _personally_ give you detention.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know jump combo sequences!  
> also  
> just imagine  
> Yuri Plisetsky  
> in detention  
> cause Victor was so disappointed in his waltz jumps :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno.. I just feel like "Bury a Friend" just vibed well with Yuri  
> Also, probably not legally correct but ya know. Victor = confidence = no one is actually going to question a world-ranked athlete..

By the time the hour was through, everyone was out of breath, even Yuri who managed to make it through without a fumble. Something he was immensely grateful for because he didn’t doubt for one moment that Victor would actually work out a way to put him in detention..

The teacher had stared daggers at Victor for the entire ten minutes it took for the students to change out of their skates and return them. 

He had been informed that the reason why Plisetsky had not actually skated with the group for the first forty minutes was because Victor didn’t appreciate the attitude. 

The silver haired man rambled about PE classes and running laps as a suitable punishment. He hadn’t left the ice, and neither had Plisetsky or the raven haired skater who was skating laps around the ice, taking advantage of the sudden mass exodus. 

The teacher nodded tersely before turning back to his students, instructing them to leave their skates,  _ neatly  _ on the rental counter and to hurry back to the bus. 

They filed out slowly, taking glances back to the ice when music suddenly burst out of the speakers. 

_ What do you want from me? Why don't you run from me? _

They saw flashes of black as Plisetski glided around the rink like liquid mercury. Fast and so obviously strong but with an astonishing level of grace as he moved around with purpose, pulling out rotations seemingly out of nowhere. 

They saw Nikiforov watching intently, looking every bit a world ranked skater as he was known for, but this was different. 

This had to be what happened behind all of the polished choreo and costumes. 

Whether or not they understood the value of what they got to experience, they all knew it was something  _ extremely _ special.

Which was why the students of Yuri’s school got to witness a sleek black Maserati pull up right at the front. Engines cutting before a  _ particularly  _ pissed looking silver haired man got out, slamming the door behind him, eyes covered by mirrored aviators. No one seemed to notice the fact that he was wearing tennis shoes and sweats. Or the fact that there was another person in the car hesitating to follow. 

But the door did open before the man made it to the front doors. 

_ “Is that the new kid?” _

_ “Didn’t you hear? He’s like super famous or something.” _

_ “He skates with Victor Nikiforov, you know, the skating genius.” _

_ “Oh my god! Wait, that’s Victor Nikiforov!” _

The mob of students filing out of school slowed down as more and more people began to stare. 

Yuri didn’t have the luxury of sunglasses. 

All he had was the hood on the hoodie he was wearing, which he pulled up all the way, quickening his steps to follow behind Victor, who held the door open, glancing behind him. He waited until Yuri moved in front of him before letting the door close, half leading and half hiding the blonde from staring eyes. Something Yakov had done many times for him when he was younger. 

But they didn’t make it to the headmaster’s office, making it just a little further than the front doors before bumping into the man. 

“Ah, Mr. Nikiforov. What do I owe this meeting? I was under the assumption that Plisetsky would be completely booked after 12.” 

Victor whipped off the sunglasses, leveling the headmaster with a cold look of barely held anger.

“There was a group that came to the rink today around eleven.” he began, tone screaming that he was  _ not  _ messing around. 

The headmaster nodded. 

“One of your students leaked a sizeable part of one of Yuri’s current short programs.” 

“I’m sorry?” The headmaster’s brows furrowed. 

“His program. One he has worked on for the past month now has been shared on social media by one of the students of this school. That is  _ unacceptable _ .”

Students crowded around, inside and outside watching the conversation play out. 

Victor knew they were probably recording. 

Hell, Yuri felt it too, but he also knew that those cameras were probably the only thing that was keeping Victor’s anger at bay. Had it been at the rink he was positive the man would have at least caught the guy by his collar. 

Not many people knew that side of Victor Nikiforov, but he’d been around the man long enough to know that behind the picturesque demeanor, Victor Nikiforov could hold his own. He could be downright terrifying when he wanted to be, and Yuri had absolutely  _ no  _ doubt in his mind that that would include being able to hold his own in fights. The man was fit. And in all honesty, with his track record and the near hostile sentiment Russia held against queer individuals, he was sure Victor would have picked up self defence  _ somewhere  _ along the line. Especially now that he was married. 

But that was beyond the point. He shook himself out of his momentary zoning out to find the headmaster’s eyes on him. 

“What?” he mumbled, blinking. 

“I said, is this true, Mr. Plisetsky? Someone leaked your piece?” 

Yuri bristled at the reminder. 

“Yes. They fucked up a whole month’s worth of work.” Victor let the foul language slide. 

“Now I need you to hear me out on this, I mean this in the most respectful way.” the headmaster began. 

The two skaters narrowed their eyes, ready to jump at the man’s throat. 

“Is-is the chunk that they leaked-does it really affect the overall program very much?”  

Victor looked downright appalled, counting to ten before deeming the question a response. 

“If this were a competition for the junior division, it may not matter. This program is for the upcoming Rostelecom and Four Continents. He’s not a junior skater. He’s a  _ world ranked  _ skater. This isn’t just a small mishap. It is downright disrespectful and  _ completely  _ against the rink’s rules. I would have thought that the teacher that accompanied the students would have known so.”

The headmaster winced as the extent of the damage continued to be unveiled. 

“Under the personal choice of the skater, he’ll have to re-choreograph that entire section. It’s already spread like wildfire. I’m sure everyone in the skating community has watched it already. It’s lost its factor of surprise.” Victor spat. 

“R-re-choreograph?” 

“That includes all of the spin and jump combinations and the actual choreography.” Victor nodded. 

“I-”

“So Yuri will no longer be attending PE class. That in an of itself was the most  _ immense  _ waste of time. He has three weeks left to re-choreograph and perfect the entirety of his program. He’ll attend classes until eleven and leave for practice.”

The headmaster looked like he was ready to object. 

“Lucky for the school, it was only Plisetsky, Katsuki, and I at the rink that day. But with the rink rules and our own rights as national athletes, you will be hearing from our lawyers as we were all present when the video was taken. Unfortunately all three of us are featured. There should be an ultimatum by Friday. If I’m not mistaken, this sort of action would fall under the privacy notices, content theft, and disruption of peace within the rink, which is clearly stated at the front of the rink under rules and regulations.” 

Victor quirked a brow. 

“I assure you, headmaster Loitin. I may not be Yuri’s coach, but I  _ will not  _ tolerate this sort of behavior against my juniors. I advise you to consider your decisions regarding Plisetsky  _ very  _ carefully.”

And with that he put the sunglasses back on before leading Yuri back out, shielding him the best he could all the way to the car, glancing once more out of the tinted windows at the crowd of staring students before speeding away.


	6. Chapter 6

All eyes turned to Yuri the moment he stalked into school Tuesday morning.

News of the after school event had spread like wildfire, which only helped in increasing the viewer count on his leaked program. 

Everyone got to see him fly across the ice and land jump sequences and combinations that looked straight up insane. They saw the way he was able to contort himself in spins and other elements, not to mention his choreography. 

He was strong, no doubt about it with the jumps he was landing. But he was graceful as well, keeping to the beat. 

Altogether, he was honestly just  _ badass. _

But being badass didn’t fix the fact that his program had been leaked. It didn’t fix the fact that he had less than a month to come up with and practice a whole new step sequence with jumps and spins because they somehow managed to leak the part that had been the most difficult in terms of practice and perfection. 

An entire minute of what he’d put hours upon hours into to get, and in all honesty, the social media support and commentary did nothing to quell the anger and frustration. 

The fact that he had to return to school and sit through hours of subjects he’d never use with the very people who had leaked and spread his program was just salt on the wound.

Which was why he blatantly ignored the stares and whispers, grabbing his materials and stalking off to class reminding himself that he only had three classes to get through before he was free. 

But it seemed the universe was really out there to royally fuck him because the moment he sat down in the first class of the day(science) and looked up from his desk, he almost lost it. 

He couldn’t do anything but stare dumbfoundedly at the smart board screen at the front of the classroom. The very one paused seconds before his big combination jump, milliseconds before he would lean back into an absolutely gorgeous Ina Baur glide, one of the cleanest he'd pulled off.

He knew what was going to happen next. 

He’d known for weeks. The same thing over and over and  _ over  _ again until he could do it in his sleep. He’d come out of an Ina Baur glide into a triple axel followed by a quad toe loop stepped out into a triple salchow. 

He’d land clean and continue his step sequence before launching into a death drop sit spin and come up into two illusion turns, straighten out before hed go into a layback which would build into a Biellmann into a clean exit. 

Days upon days of bruises and sore muscles to perfect that frankly amazing piece, all gone to waste.

Of course it would happen...

“Alright class. Settle down, settle down.” the middle aged professor walked in with a cup of coffee in his hand.

Yuri had to fight the urge to grab his things and just walk out. 

“So as you all know, we’ll be starting a new unit today on angular momentum and momentum of inertia.” 

He set his coffee down on his table.

“And what better way to learn than through some practical examples!” the professor smiled enthusiastically as he motioned to Yuri who met his eyes with a look of absolute bemusement. 

“Mr. Plisetsky! I must say that this video is amazing!” 

His jaw tightened as he worked to hold everything in. But they were walking on  thin ice. 

“For those of you who don’t know, we have our very own world ranked athlete sitting amongst us today.”

Yuri glared straight ahead. 

“I saw the video this morning and thought it would be a great addition to our lesson today, so without further ado..” he walked over and turned off the lights before clicking play on the remote in his hands. 

_ Step on the glass. Staple your tongue…  _

It looked effortless, even with his legs at such a weird position, back bent with his fingers skimming the cuff of his back skates.

_ Cannibal class. Killing the sun…  _

He came back up from the glide before jumping into a triple axel with an astonishing height, rotating rapidly before sinking into his landing only to be followed by a triple toe loop of equal astonishing height. 

It hadn’t been a clean landing, something Victor pointed out, but in the current company it was perfect. 

_ I wanna I wanna end me…  _ he stepped out before whipping into a three turn, turning as his left knee bent and his right leg came up, propelling him up into his triple salchow into another solid landing. 

_ When we all fall asleep where do we go? Listen…  _

He made it look easy, the way his death drop was so fluid, doing what looked like acrobatics before landing and squatting his entire body weight on one leg while he held his free leg straight all the while spinning faster and faster.

There were whispered  _ woahs  _ as his body moved fluidly to pick himself up and go into two illusion turns, straightening momentarily before leaning so far back, hooking a hand around his blade as he pulled it up into Bielmann, showcasing his flexibility.

They got to the point of him exiting the spin before the teacher paused the video. 

“Amazing!”

There were applause, but Yuri didn’t respond, focusing on keeping his cool.

“You see how he brought his knee up before spinning?” the teacher rewinded to the axel. 

“The kicking creates more momentum which would carry the body up higher.” 

He pressed play,

“And the arms too.” 

Everyone watched intently. 

“And as he landed, you can see the direction the momentum is taking him which allows the momentum to carry into the second jump as well.” 

He pressed play once more to show the landing into the toe loop. 

“Now for the last jump, correct me if I'm wrong” he gestured to Yuri

“The last does not take off on the same leg hence the stepping out.” 

He didn't wait for a response. 

“Now you can see the way he spins before bringing his right leg up. The spin adds momentum and force which help with height and the arms help with the rotation.” 

The class listened with interest, seemingly oblivious to the aura of irritation that was growing around the blonde who kept his eyes focused straight ahead, hands balled into fists on his lap.

“We have a similar thing happen when he goes into the spins. Especially the one where he jumps. You can see the way he tightens his limbs near the center, which makes him spin faster. But in terms of balance I have no idea how all of this is happening. It's astonishing how much balance you have.” . 

They saw the Bielmann again, whispering about the crazy amount of flexibility he had. 

And no one missed the brief view of what looked to be an impressive set of abs as his shirt rode up. 

Flexible.

Strong. 

Fit. 

No wonder he was world ranked. 

The whispered gossiping continued, fanning the fire that was kindling in his gut.

“But I'm sure that with being a world class athlete, all of this must come easy to you by now.” 

It was meant to be a compliment. His brain knew rationally, that the teacher probably wasn’t trying to invalidate the amount of work and effort he put into that piece of the program. 

But he wasn't in the mood to indulge. 

He wasn’t flattered, he was  _ pissed. _

And as the words repeated themselves in his head, the emotional dam broke, sending memories of the past weeks flooding back. Days before his mother popped out of nowhere to fuck his life up more than she already had. The fact that he had worked for  _ hours upon hours  _ both on and off ice. Hours spent in the rinkside studio working on his choreo. Hours on ice tearing his feet up, not to mention the constant bruising all over as he fell again and again, carving up the ice up with terrifying amount dedication as he gave every hour his hundred percent, pushing himself to be better. 

He had to because everyone else did as well. 

Yuri knew that Victor and Katsudon practiced like every day was their last day. Pushing hard because, in all honesty  every day was a day closer to their last and they still had so much to give before then. Competitions to compete in. Programs to create. Records to break. 

They just couldn't afford to half ass it.

Contrary to popular belief, it never got easier, especially with the fact that they had reputations on the line.. There were people out there just waiting for them to fail. He had learned early on that to be one of the best meant that he needed to be on his A game all the time. 

It was  _ exhausting  _ and oh so stressful.

So no. He didn't appreciate the amazed flattery. 

It rubbed him the wrong way, especially since he knew that they couldn't  _ possibly  _ even  _ begin _ to understand just how difficult the little more than a minute had been. How many nights he'd spent with his feet in a bucket of ice water to ease the pain from a particularly difficult practice while mentally running through the choreo. Or the fact that there were nights where he would wake up in cold sweat from dreams of fucking up his program which would lead to hours of going through again and again. 

“No. It doesn't.” his tone was frigid and sharp as steel, just barely over a whisper but it carried.

A hush fell over the room as the teacher blinked, caught completely off guard.

“I'm sorry?” 

“It doesn't come easy and it doesn’t get easier. It just stays really fucking hard.” he locked eyes with the startled teacher. 

“And no. That video wasn't amazing. It shouldn't even exist.”

The words just kept coming, breaking past the pent up anger.

“That-” he gestured disgustedly at the screen “-is the product of  _ weeks _ . Being a world ranked skater doesn't give you magical powers. No one just pulls a perfect program out of their ass.” 

The teacher stood rooted to the spot, mouth opening and closing as Yuri continued on his rant.

“I've spent _weeks_ pushing to be better than i've been because that's what I have to fucking do. Because once you start winning you'll have people waiting and hoping to see you fail.So you take all the ice baths you need, tape up your bloody blistered feet, and suck it up because there's no time to take a break because anything below perfect doesn’t cut it the higher you get.” 

He grabbed his things and shoved them into his backpack.

“So if the little  _ shit  _ who leaked my program is in this room right now, I just want to say, full offence; *stop talking shit like you know this shit. I  don’t need your feedback, honestly. So fuck you. Actually no. Fuck your ID, you know what, no. Fuck your IP because I’m sick of your leak.”

And with that he slung his bag over his shoulder stalked out.

* * *

 

When he got to the rink he was met with a particularly amused Victor and Yuuri and a definitely bemused Yakov. 

No one questioned the fact that he was nearly two hours early. 

“Not one word. We’re going to talk about it after the competition. Just go fix your program.” Yakov ordered sternly. 

Yuri obliged, heading to the locker room to change.

He emerged in his signature black, hair tied up in a boxer braid looking pissed. 

Of  _ course  _ someone was going to film his rant and spread it on social media. They’d got almost all of it, capping it off with the personal message to the leaker. 

_ Everyone  _ had seen it. 

Victor had reposted it with the caption ‘T R U T H’ followed by three hand emojis.

Giacometti and Chulanont had commented, something along the lines of ‘drag that bitch!’. 

Yuuri had liked the post and commented a fire emoji with a tiger. 

The fact that Victor had reposted only served to further the number of views. 

Thousands upon thousands of people, fans, and athletes alike got to see Yuri Plisetsky go off  _ hard _ .

But in all honesty, he couldn’t say he regretted his actions. 

He said what needed to be said and no one was injured during the entire time, which was a pretty decent amount of self control spent. 

He skated out onto the ice, putting his phone next to his guards. He’d check back later but for now, he had a program to redo. 

Three weeks. 

He had three weeks to get everything polished so there was no time to waste. 

Only three week 

_ Fuck…  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *From Epik High's "Born Hater"


	7. Chapter 7

Yuri put his cup down slowly, staring daggers at Victor’s phone as the screen lit up with an incoming call.

Yuuri momentarily quirked a brow at the caller ID on the screen but looked away, reaching for his cup leaving Victor to answer, fork full of leafy greens paused halfway to his mouth.

He hesitated a moment before picking up, immediately putting the call on speaker.  

“Hello?” 

“Yes, Hello. This is headmaster Loitin from *Lyceum FTSH calling for Mr. Nikiforov.” 

“Headmaster Loitin! What do I owe this pleasure?” 

Yuri narrowed his eyes at Victor’s tone of faux upbeat politeness. The smirked playing on the man’s lips didn’t help his case either. 

“Well, Mr. Nikiforov, I am  _ very  _ sorry to say that this call will not a pleasant one.”

“Oh? Has something happened?” 

Even Yuuri caught on to the utter ridiculousness of the amount of feigned confusion. If he wasn’t looking at Victor’s face he honestly wouldn’t have known the man was bluffing. 

“Yes. I’ve just gotten out of a meeting so I’ve only recently been told, but according to Mr. Plisetsky’s first module teacher, Mr. Plisetsky created quite a scene this morning.”

“Are you positive about this? I know Yuri, he’s not really the confrontational type. Surely the teacher must have read the situation incorrectly.” the two Yuris quirked a brow as Victor covered the mouthpiece as he tried his best to suppress the laughter that was bubbling up. He took in a giggly breath before uncovering the mouthpiece,  just in time to hear the headmaster try to gently explain why Yuri was trending on social media again for the second time in two days. 

Victor and Yuuri were slightly red in the face from trying to keep their laughter in. Victor even went as far as to wipe the laughter tears from his eyes. 

“So what you’re saying is that he backtalked his teacher and cursed out a fellow classmate?” Victor held everything in for that sentence. 

“More or less, yes. And he left the class without permission and walked out of the school.” 

“Could I ask why he talked back to his teacher? I am just genuinely concerned-” Yuri rolled his eyes at Victor stared straight at him with the  _ biggest  _ shit eating grin. 

“-because, as I said before, that just isn’t something Yuri would do. He’s normally so polite and he very rarely uses profanity. He’s normally such a gentle soul.” Victor covered his face with his hands to try to keep the laughter quiet. Yuri just dropped his head onto the table with an audible  **_thunk._ **

Neither noticed that Yuuri had slowly took his phone out and started recording around when Victor tried to clarify what he understood Yuri to have done. 

He’d have to save it forever. Phichit and Christophe would have a field day watching.

“From what I was told, from both the teacher and his classmates, his teacher used his leaked video to explain some new concepts they would be covering in class that day.”

“Mhm.” Victor coughed to try and cover up the rogue fit of laughter. 

“I assume this upset Mr. Plisetsky, which is understandable. But something the teacher had said was taken the wrong way and Mr. Plisetsky, very aggressively, challenged the teacher’s thoughts and then continued to curse his classmate out.”

“Could you explain why the teacher decided to use that video? Was he told that that would be okay?” there was an ever so slight change to Victor’s tone that had Yuri sitting back up. 

“Well-”

“Because I am sure that I made it quite clear that the video was an  _ incredible  _ invasion of privacy. I can’t fully blame Yuri if he had it blatantly thrown at his face again, in class in front of his peers nonetheless.” 

All jokes aside, Victor was getting serious. 

Something about the man had rubbed him the wrong way since the first meeting and it just further kindled the need to knock the man down a few pegs. 

That and the fact that he had a feeling he knew what was going to happen, and he did not like the thought of it one bit.

Loitin grasped for straws realizing he couldn’t really argue against what was said. 

“I’d understand the need to phone me as Yuri’s guardian if he had harmed another student or baselessly went off on his teacher and fellow classmates. But if I’m understanding things correctly, it sounds more like he was standing up for himself.” 

This was the Victor not many people knew about. The low key terrifying, ridiculously loyal individual who could go from 0 to 60 in a blink of an eye for the ones he loved. 

Loitin didn’t stand a chance.

“Be that as it may, Mr. Plisetsky still walked out of school grounds without permission which goes against the contract that was signed.” 

“The contract that ensured Yuri’s privacy from the school itself. Something that was very blatantly broken. The contract specified that whichever party violated any clauses under  _ grounds for dismissal   _ first would be penalized. And if I may be so bold, it was under  _ your  _ teacher’s leadership that the video was leaked to begin with.” 

Yuuri winced. 

_ Oooo….  _

There was a beat of silence. 

“So I’m not entirely sure as to why this call was necessary.” 

“I apologize, but a grievance was brought up and a teacher guardian meeting has been set for tomorrow at eight thirty. It is the school policy.” 

Victor rolled his eyes. 

“Well, headmaster Loitin. I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow to iron out this mess.” 

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Nikiforov.” 

Victor ended the call before clapping his hands together with a worrying smirk.. 

“Well, Yura. I think this is a blessing in disguise.” 

“The fuck are you talking about?” 

“This man, your headmaster.” 

Yuri motioned for him to continue. 

“I’m going to end him.” 

Victor scoffed, flexing his fingers as he looked back at his phone, tongue in cheek at the utter absurdity that had unfolded before his eyes. 

He’d be damned if Yuri walked out of tomorrow’s meeting with  _ any  _ sort of penalty because, it was personal now. Snide remarks to him were shrugable. 

But the bastard had messed with Yura and that just would.not.fly.

That and the fact the man was cutting into his precious practice time. 

Oh yes.

Loitin would pay...


	8. Chapter 8

It was common knowledge that Victor Nikiforov was dramatic af. That he was impulsive and sometimes even reckless in his effort to keep people on their toes. And if someone were to just happen to mention that he thrived closer to the chaotic alignment than the others, he wouldn’t hesitate to agree. The man was practically a walking chaotic alignment chart on his own, pulling out surprise after countless surprise.  

What  _ wasn’t  _ common knowledge however, was that Victor Nikiforov was rarely ever furious. 

Upset? Here and there. Irritated? Mostly before big competitions. Angry? Not too often as of late. He was an emotional man, but he was understanding. He knew that acting in anger never turned out quite right. Which was why so many never saw his dark side. They never saw the crazy manipulative self assuredness that rolled off his shoulders in chilling waves. They never saw the terrifying glint in his eyes that just promised destruction in his wake. 

The man was downright ruthless at times.. 

So when Yuri made his way downstairs around seven thirty still in joggers and an oversized hoodie to find Victor and Yuuri in full on suits drinking coffee with none other than an equally suit clad Christophe Giacometti, he had to pinched himself to make sure it wasn’t some weird ass dream he was having.

“Yura. You’re awake! Good. I was just about to go check on you.” Victor greeted cheerfully. Far  _ far  _ too much for this early in the morning. 

“There’s a lot of coffee left if you want some, Yuri. And Chris brought some pastries as well.” Katsuki casually nodded to the several assorted boxes sitting on the counter. 

Casually, as if there was nothing off about the fact that Christophe-fucking-Giacometti was sitting at their kitchen table in Saint Petersburg instead of wherever it was he resided.

“It’s only a three hour flight between here and Switzerland. And Victor called in the favor around lunch yesterday.” Christophe shrugged before returning to his mug of coffee. 

“But that’s not important right now.” Victor cut in, glancing over at his phone to check the time. 

“We’re leaving in ten minutes.” he nodded to a black garment bag draped over an empty chair.   

“Your suit from last season probably won’t fit so I got you temporary off the racks for today.” Yuri didn’t miss a beat. 

“It’s just a parent-uh-guardian meeting thing. This is just ridiculous.”  

Victor arched a brow before pulling something up on his phone before turning it to show Yuri. 

“That’s not what I was told from the email your headmaster sent yesterday evening.” 

The blonde rolled his eyes before leaning in to read the sizeable email before recoiling in surprise.

“ _ What?! _ ” he hissed, eyes narrowing in irritation.

Victor nodded as he put the phone down, dusting an inconspicuous piece of lint off of his dark charcoal suit before looking up again. 

“As of three PM yesterday, your parent/teacher concern meeting has been widened to a; headmaster plus dean of students plus dean of academics and parent disciplinary meeting, Yura. Apparently your teacher decided to recuse himself.” the man did  _ not  _ look amused. 

That explained the suits then… 

“Okay, fine. The suits I get.” Yuri grimaced. 

“But why are you here?” he directed the question on Christophe who answered with ease.

“It’ll be three on three.” 

_ Oh…  _

“I saw the leaked program, Plisetsky. That wasn’t okay, and I had the time so I figured I could help.”

“Thank..you..?” 

Victor smirked before nudging Yuri towards the bag. 

“I was serious when I said I would end the man, Yuri. Just go with it.” 

And against his teenage punk spirit, Yuri nodded curtly and did as he was told. 

Things were going to get  _ very  _ interesting.

* * *

 

They arrived nearly forty minutes early, attracting a plethora of attention from parents and students alike as a familiar sleek black Maserati sped down the street, taking a sharp right and almost drifted before pulling up at the front of the school, tailed by a black and blue Bugatti that just  _ screamed  _ expensive. 

They hord of arriving students and parents saw the driver’s door open before a head of shiny platinum hair rose out of the car, giving way to mirrored aviators that reflected the flurry of flashes that went off as people started to notice just who the man was. He shut the door behind him before striding over to the passenger’s side, straightening his dark suit as he went. 

The passenger door opened to a breakout of excited whispers and even more flashes that bounced off of equally mirrored sunglasses. 

The driver and passenger side doors of the Bugatti opened and shut in sync as two more suit and sunglass clad individuals joined the group, looking low key ominous in their dark suits. 

They closed ranks the moment Yuri got out and closed the door behind him. Yuuri wasted no time in moving to shield Yuri’s left while Christophe moved to shield his right. Victor stayed close in front, leading the little party, chin held high, every inch looking  _ particularly  _ threatening. There was an aesthetic and it was working. The group looked every bit ready to kill if need be. Looking almost as threatening as the bratva. 

It was more than clear that they meant business. 

And if the school wanted to play games with Victor and those he was close to, he was happy to indulge. He just hoped for their sake that they realized just who it was they were messing with and just how dangerous it was to play against an angry Victor Nikiforov. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to add  
> The song for the last chapter and this chapter is:  
> BTS - Not Today

“Headmaster Loitin.” Victor took his sunglasses off, using the action to dismiss the proffered hand completely.

He was in no mood for frivolity and games.

Which was exactly what the three adults sitting on either side of the headmaster’s desk looked like.

Frivalty and a waste of goddamn time. Especially so close to such a big competition.

He guided Yuri in, keeping him close behind as Yuuri shut the door quietly behind him. The other three took their sunglasses off as well, not moving an inch from the formation.

“Mr. Nikiforov. I wasn’t aware we would be having a group.” the headmaster glanced between the two in the back.

“Mhm. I figured with the little surprise Yuri’s teacher decided to pull it was only fair. You already know Mr. Katsuki. My husband. And this is Christophe Giacometti. One of the top skaters in the world. He felt the personal need to attend this meeting after the utter _insult_ of the leaked video.

Christophe nodded solemnly.

“Ah… I see…” the headmaster moved to his desk before gesturing for the group to sit. Victor and Yuri sat beside each other while Yuuri and Christophe took the remaining two, separated by a small decorative end table in between.  

“Mr. Nikiforov, I think we should start this meeting acknowledging that it is only day _three_ of Mr. Plisetsky’s enrollment here at this school.”

“I am _very_ well aware, headmaster.” Victor crossed one long leg over the other with a marginal tilt of his head.

“Because this meeting marks three days of practice disruptions before the upcoming Rostelecom. There is exactly seventeen days left and here we are, still meeting without the person who called the meeting in the first place.” he brought his hands up in a questioning shrug, staring straight at the headmaster himself.

“Seventeen days with a good chunk of Yuri’s program still under construction after the leak but please, do go on.”

The three staff looked away, unable to meet Victor’s simmering anger.

“Be that as it may-” Loitin coughed, straightening a stack of papers in front of him.

“This is a _private_ institution, Mr. Nikiforov. There was a set guideline of rules that Mr. Plisetsky agreed to when he started here.”

“I am also very well aware of that as well. We’ve had this conversation before, headmaster Loitin. This school was in blatant violation of the guideline _first_ with the leak.”

“Yes but-”

“I just don’t understand, to be completely honest with you all.” Victor cut him off with a derisive huff.

“The school leaked his program, and then _spread_ said program.” Victor shot a pointed look to the dean of students.

“Yes, Dean Vitrov. It was _beyond_ surreal to receive a DM from _Thailand_ of all places from Mr. Chulanont, another world-ranked skater, asking me what Lyceum FTSH was and whether they were sponsoring Yuri after FTSH’s repost of the leaked program came up in his feed.”

The silence was downright _chilling._

“And then calls a parent-teacher conference which they proceed to change the same day to a disciplinary meeting because the teacher in the equation _recuses_ himself? Does that sound professional to you?”  Victor crossed his arms defensively looking ready to cut someone with his own skates.

Loitin paled visibly, looking between the two deans to search for what exactly he should answer with, but they all knew he was skating on thin ice.

“Not to mention the fact that you leaked a top _Russian_ skater’s program days before a big competition _in_ Russia. That’s just…That’s terrible. I’d have thrown a riot if it were me in Switzerland…” Christophe added, looking far too casual in his seat.

“If I’m not mistaken, the FTSH’s repost hasn’t been taken down yet either. I’ve had contacts from all over-” Yuuri waved lightly at Victor to get the man’s attention.

“Even Seung-gil asked about the video. He seemed genuinely confused. And then pretty mad when I told him.”

“Because it’s ridiculous. Yuri has every right to be mad. Yes, I will acknowledge that maybe walking out of school was not the best choice of action. However, there was no formal apology from the school and from the fact that the teacher did not know about the video and the fact that it had been _spread_ means that the school took no steps in informing the faculty about it or actually going about fixing the situation. So Yuri’s anger is understandable. What’s _not_ understandable is the fact that you’ve called me here, taking valuable.practice.time-” Victor clapped, emphasizing each word.

This meeting was dragging and it was blatantly evident that the school didn’t really have any sort of defense at this point.

“So we’ve come to a consensus.” the headmaster bit out.

“Have we now?”

“FTSH is ready to throw out the disciplinary action proposal for Mr. Plisetsky.”

Victor’s jaw worked as he worked to keep his eyes in check. As much as he’d like to roll them…

“However, we’d like to keep the video up.”

“The fuck?” Yuri hissed, looking beyond affronted.

Victor’s expression changed to one of calm before the storm.

The gloves were off. He was done with the niceties.

“We would like to keep the reposted video up on our social media.”

“I didn’t ask you to repeat yourself, headmaster Loitin. Don’t get it twisted. I’m perfectly capable of reading situations.” his tone was frigid.

“And in all honesty, I am not liking this situation. If I’m not mistaken, Lyceum FTSH is exploiting our child. Am I wrong, _headmaster_ Loitin?”

Even Yuri stilled, jaw tight as he held back. This was _definitely_ not the time or place to lash out.

“E-excuse me?”

“Yuri Plisetsky is under the joint guardianship of Mr. Katsuki and I. As he is underage, he’s a child. _Our_ child. The one that you are manipulating and exploiting the talents of for the school’s gain. That just seems downright _criminal,_ does it not?”

“Mr. Nikiforov. I assure you that you are blowing things _extremely_ out of proportion!”

“Then explain to me, headmaster Loitin. Just exactly what this consensus consists of!” Victor was on his feet, fists balled at his sides.  

Loitin dug through the stack of papers in front of him, glancing between the two deans before taking a deep breath, looking everywhere but at the angry skater.

“Lyceum FTSH will agree to throw out the pending disciplinary action (suspension) against Mr. Yuri Plisetsky under the agreement of Mr. Nikiforov and Katsuki, that any and all social media platforms may keep the video of Mr. Plisetsky’s short program.” he read aloud, turning the paper, and handing Victor a pen to sign.

Victor huffed an affronted chortle, as his jaw worked. His hands were on his hips and he looked _furious_.

“Yura. Get up. We are leaving.” Yuri didn’t hesitate, standing immediately, looking to Yuuri who nodded, eyes narrowed on the same wavelength as his husband.

Unbeknowest to the headmaster and the dean of students, he also sent a firm nod to Giacometti who smirked.

It sent a chill down the dean of academic’s spine.

“Mark my words, Loitin. FTSH has just made a _terrible_ mistake.”

He turned immediately, hands on Yuri’s shoulder as he guided him out, putting his sunglasses back on as he nudged the teen to do the same.

Yuuri and Chris followed close behind, pulling their glasses from inside their suit pocket.

But Giacometti hesitated for just a moment, prompting Loitin and the two deans attention.

But they couldn’t do anything as their eyes came to see the Swiss skater hit end on what looked to be an instagram livestream.

He shut his phone off and promptly put his sunglasses on before nodded to Katsuki who followed suit, closing the door quietly behind him.

* * *

 

Within what had been around thirty minutes at most, the crowd outside had not shrunk. In fact, it had grown. Telltale cat earpieces stuck out, heralding the arrival of several of Yuri’s Angels, all of whom promptly _lost it_ the moment Victor and Yuri emerged, sunglasses on looking _fierce._

The fact that Giacometti and Katsuki happened to follow was only icing on the cake of the social media rumor mill that was at full blast after Giacometti’s location-tagged live stream. It had been agreed upon the day before. Victor had a feeling things were going to go south, especially if Yuri really did end up getting any sort of disciplinary action that would hinder his skating. But he knew from the moment Chulanont had sent him a screenshot Lyceum FTSH’s repost that it was already an unfair fight. They would not be fighting fair. So he just had to level the playing field. If it was going to be blown up, he’d make sure that it was blown up properly, with honesty.

It was risky, but he had a plan.

So with step one done, all that there was to do was wait.

Wait and re-energize because step two was going to be ugly...  

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit... He snapped O__O  
> Any guesses as to what step 2 is gonna involve?


	10. Chapter 10

The live stream had gone viral by lunch time, but brought a heavy loss with it. 

They had just  _ barely  _ made it back before there was knocking at the door by the two police officers they had missed, having glimpsed their arrival from the living room window. And as much as they wanted to have faith in the current smoothness of the overall plan, the flashing lights down below did nothing to quell their nerves. 

Especially Yuri, who wedged himself firmly into the deep corner of one of the sofas, expression uncharacteristically neutral. 

He wouldn’t say it out loud, but the truth of the matter was that he was low key pretty scared and high key super anxious. He’d been like that the moment he saw Yakov’s worried eyes when he handed a sizable stack of papers to an uncharacteristically stoic Victor who took the stack with a grateful nod. There hadn’t been a single word spoken between the two, but he wasn’t immune to the nearly  _ suffocating  _ tension that had fallen in the midst. 

The anxiety grew when he spotted a part of the title of one of the papers;  **_ADOPTION_ ** . Something was so incredibly worryingly  _ wrong _ . Why were they filing for adoption again? If they were filing again, did it mean his guardianship fell back to his vindictive parents? For all he knew, the meeting today was a suspension sentence meaning he was hurtling towards a dangerous cliff, and knowing his parents, it couldn’t be ruled out that there was a good chance he may actually lose everything... 

_ Fuck. _

Losing his emancipation status meant that he was still under  _ someone _ , and that someone wasn’t Victor or Katsuki, which left two options; his parents or the state. That meant that he stood to lose access to his sponsorships which would mean he wouldn’t be able to skate which would mean he was no longer a national team athlete. Stripping himself of all that revealed a horrific realization. 

He was stuck. 

_ No.no.no… _

Thoughts and speculations waged war in his mind as he stared at Victor’s back from his slumped position on a cold metal bench a few steps behind the counter where the man was  _ still _ going through paperwork with a juvenile affairs agent. 

Victor had filled him in on the way to the city hall about the situation at hand and what the general plan was. How, while the school had technically breached the terms of the contract first, they still had the legal right to impose disciplinary action. 

They had, unsurprisingly, held the suspension notice. 

_ That  _ had been calculated in their plan. What had  _ not  _ been accounted for was the reactive consequence. It wasn’t entirely good and it wasn’t entirely bad, but it did make things difficult. On one end, the fact that he had received an academic suspension marked him as breaching the contract as well. That triggered the ‘lock’ or pretty much the series of events his panicked mind had been feeding him. And with that lock in place, he was suspended in a grey zone, which was not okay. At least to him, anyway. 

No funds, no status, technically a truant by law. 

But- Victor had rush to tell him, probably worrying that the blonde would spontaneously combust from all of this. Which, in all honesty, he was. Internally combusting as fire raced through the carefully structured corners of his mind, sending his heart racing uncomfortably. 

The good news, however, was that they had a five hour gap to submit everything again. Then they may be able to return to waiting for adoption like they were before. 

_ Maybe  _ .

No one was absolutely sure about the plan, but they’d try.

Which was exactly what Victor was doing. Victor  _ and  _ Katsuki, in his staggered English. The man had been on social media non-stop building image, something Yakov and a few social service workers advised the two to do in the light of such chaotic events. There needed to be stability. Something to show that the two world class skaters were fit to take care of Plisetsky. They’d made it in time. 

All the documents had been re-entered and with Yuri on suspension notice, all that there was left to do was wait. 

Which was exactly how the entire situation with the police came in to play. 

Yuri would have been lying if he had said he felt entirely secure when the sudden knocking came, wedge into one of the corners of the plush sofa freshly showered but still a little high strung at the chaotic past couple of hours. 

Yuuri had been the one who held Makkachin back while allowing the two officers in without hesitation, calling for Victor who came trotting downstairs, still half asleep in sweats. 

His eyes widened as the sleep was jolted out of him at the sight of the two uniformed officers who greeted the two neutrally. 

“We are here on behalf of the juvenile affairs office about one  _ Yuri Plisetsky _ ?” the taller office started off. 

“What about Yuri?” Victor responded, drawing himself up straighter, not breaking eye contact. 

“He has been summoned on account of truancy in regards to  Lyceum FTSH.”

“Do you have a warrant?” he cocked a brow. 

“Any sort of paperwork? As Yuri’s guardian, I’d like to see  _ something _ .”

The officer obliged, turning to his partner for an envelope. 

“These are official summons dated this morning at ten o’clock.” Victor took the papers gingerly, skimming through the offical document. 

“Yes well his status has changed.” Victor held the papers back for the officer to take. 

“As of fifteen or so minutes ago” he checked his watch “No, I suppose forty with the traffic.”

Yuuri nodded. 

“Yuri Plisetsky’s status has changed back to that of a temporary semi-emancipation while the adoption paperwork gets processed with Mr. Katsuki and I as his guardians. However, I will say that the suspension notice from Lyceum FTSH still stands for the next week, or until the academic appeals request gets approved.” 

The officers nodded, looking a little uncertain at the change of events. 

“Uh, one moment please. I’ll call in.” Victor nodded, not taking his eyes off of the man. 

There was no way in  _ hell  _ that anyone was going to take Yuri out of this house. They’d have to step over his own dead body. He was sure Yuuri felt the same way going by the worried glances he kept shooting Victor. 

“I’ll go check on him.” the man whispered with a small squeeze on the arm.

* * *

 

The call lasted about ten minutes. Ten minutes of hushed whispers as Victor’s patience started wearing thin. 

So naturally he was more than a  _ little  _ irate when the man finally hung up, having dragged the whole thing out even with the proper documentation. 

“I see there was a misunderstanding between paperwork.” the officers stated apologetically. A little  _ too  _ apologetically in Victor’s wary opinion. 

“I do apologize, however, Mr. Nikiforov. There was a mistake. And in one fluid moment as Victor’s brain worked to catch up with the events that were unfolding, the officers shot him apologetic looks as they pounced, cuffing him with ease.

“Victor Nikiforov. You are hereby arrested on charges of fraudulent paperwork, slander in attempt to spread misinformation, and aggravated abduction of a minor. You have the right to remain silent-”

“What the  _ fuck?! _ ?! Victor stopped struggling when he caught Yuri slipping a sharp curve from the living room to the hall leading to the front foyer where he was being pushed up against a wall in handcuffs. 

“Yura, no!!” 

“Get off of him!”    

The blonde completely ignored the order, jumping on to the nearest officer. Or he tried to at least. He was caught by Yuuri mid jump as the raven haired skater made silence but very panicked eye contact with Victor who shook his head. 

“NO!” the teen was in near hysterics trying to wiggle his way out of Yuuri’s iron grasp.

“Yura.YURA! Look at me. This is all a mistake. I promise.” he swiveled his head as the officers opened the door and pushed him out. 

“I need you to stay put. Stay put! This is all a misunderstanding. Everything is going to be okay! Yuuri-” the door slammed shut, punching the two shocked skaters with heavy silence. 

The car door slammed shut and within seconds they were off, sirens blaring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do you think reported Victor?


	11. Mid-Story Recap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a part of the story, just a recap to get everyone up to date before the story gets more twisty!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @Leradomi  
> This one is for ya, and probably a lot more people who haven't actually commented but were wondering the same thing!

*Start: **~25 October - Friday**

*Yuri misses the second half of Friday all the way to _~27 October - Sunday_

*Victor and Yuuri submit adoption papers and Yuri submits temporary emancipation and moves in **~27 October - Sunday**

*Yuri starts school **~28 October - Monday**

*Program gets leaked **~28 October - Monday**

*Victor confronts Headmaster Loitin **~28 October - Monday**  

*Yuri walks out of school **~29 October - Tuesday**

*Victor gets the call from Headmaster Loitin **~28 October - Tuesday**

*Victor, Yuuri, Chris, and Yuri attend a disciplinary meeting **~30 October - Wednesday**

*Yuri gets suspended **~30 October - Wednesday**

*Victor and Yuuri refile for adoption **~30 October - Wednesday**

_**\- Currently ~30 October - Wednesday** _

**\- D-17** **to Rostelecom Cup**

 

***SUMMARY***

So Yuri's mom suddenly comes into his life after those months of absence to demand that he return to school to graduate and get a degree, something he has no intention of doing seeing as he is a world-renowned skater and doing so would be throwing his success away. However, his mom strong-arms him into splitting his time and going to school parttime by threatening to take his father's co-signatures away from his sponsorships. 

Yakov comes up with a plan which includes Yuri filing for temporary emancipation while Victor and Yuuri apply for adoption, a process that takes a week to process even with Yakov's connections. The one thing they couldn't fix was a point in the plan was that, during the week where Yuri hangs midair between emancipated and adopted it's a grey line that requires that he at least attends part of the school day. So he starts school on Monday and by some weird stroke of terrible luck, his PE class has a field trip to the ice rink where one of the students leaks part of his program. The next day he walks straight out of school which prompts the headmaster to call in a disciplinary meeting for Wednesday. 

Wednesday comes around and long story short, Yuri gets suspended which break with the contract but Lyceum FTSH also breaks from the contract as well leaving the two sides at a stalemate. 

HOWEVER (This is the confusing part):

There was a clause in the contract about possible repercussions for any sort of severe disciplinary action (which includes suspension). One of the biggest repercussions being that all the paperwork and statuses filed are voided meaning that they'd need to restart everything again. The problem is that, since Yuri would then not have a temporary emancipation status or have any sort of pending paperwork for status changes means that he's in the grey area where technically he could be arrested for truancy as his national athlete status would be voided as well. That's why he's so panicked. Because they are toeing the line real close(hence the police). 

As for Victor's arrest, everything will be made clear in the next chapter! 

 

***KEY POINT***

\- There are only 17 days left before the competition

\- Victor is in police custody for possible felonies

\- Yuri is currently in the legal grey area and will remain so until his temporary emancipation paperwork and the adoption paperwork goes through

\- Most of the skating community know what's going on, and they continue to follow via updates from Chris


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler Chapter!

Yuuri called the only person he knew that could fix a problem of such chaotic enormity that was Victor’s current situation, Yakov. 

Yakov who listened in grim silence, assuring the then nearly hyperventilating Yuuri that he was on his way over to get Victor out as they spoke; which was true because he heard the slamming of the car door and the equally abrasive string of what could only be curse words as he started the engine. 

“ _ He’ll be back home within two hours _ ” was what Yakov had declared without any sort of hesitation. Like there was no way it  _ wasn’t  _ going to happen. Not to his student, not in the middle of the week, and  _ especially  _ not so close to such a big competition. His own legal power be damned, he had the Russian Skating Federation behind him not to mention the fact he still had connections in the ISU. He was ready to pull the big guns out for this. Especially after hearing Katsuki nearly having a panic attack trying to explain what exactly had happened in that short span of time while also worrying about Plisetsky who had apparently almost assaulted an officer.

Yakov’s heart skipped a beat at the rushed addition to the overall explanation of what happened. 

What had happened was just  _ wrong _ . So wrong. Wreaking of half truths and ulterior motives. Someone had something against the man, and going by Katsuki’s accounts, Yakov was certain it was all part of someone’s vendetta. 

The series of chaotic events just felt  _ too  _ planned for coincidence… 

So with one last assurance that everything would be fine, Yakov hung up and stomped on the gas. 

* * *

 

Paparazzi photos and gossip blurbs started popping up even before Yakov called again, back in his car with an exhausted sounding Victor in tow. 

And in all honesty, Yuuri really hadn’t intended to be mad. Both he and Victor knew that their plan to save Yuri was going to be bumpy. They knew full well that things would get ugly, especially after the whole meeting at  Lyceum FTSH. But his normally deep well of understanding and bottling ran fire dry the moment he received a text message from Mila followed by an attachment. And then he got one from Christophe and another from Phichit as well. And within three minutes of internally debating whether or not to open the messages that had been sent in and ominously synchronized timing, Victor suddenly facetimed him. 

He took a deep breath and answered, and then he wished he hadn’t. 

There was no smile on Victor’s face, just pinched lines and a worryingly anxious look in his eyes. 

“Vitya?” 

“Yuuri.” he ran a restless hand through his rumpled hair, not quite able to meet the other’s eyes. 

“We’re almost there, but before anything else, Yuuri; you’ve got to make sure Yura doesn’t go on any social media for a little bit.” 

Yuuri’s heart sank as realization hit. So  _ that’s  _ why they messaged him… 

“...Why…?” 

“Just-I’m sure Christophe has sent you something. Just see it and make sure Yura stays away from his phone. Yakov’s got the Russian Skating Federation on it as we speak, but it’s going to get a lot worse before it dies down.” 

Yuuri nodded, almost mechanically as he eyed the phone on the coffee table in front of him; thanking all the deities above for not making him try and steal it away from the currently  _ extremely  _ anxious and angry teen. It was an endeavour he was pretty sure that would have gotten both of them injured. 

“We’ll be there in less than ten.” 

“Victor?” 

“Yes?” 

“I love you. Get back safe.” 

He heard a whispered “ _ I love you too _ ” back before the call ended leaving him to brace himself before opening Christophe’s message. He put his phone face down on the sofa beside him and squeezed his eyes shut against the wave of mixed emotions that succeeded in knocking the wind out of him, keeping him pinned under what felt like tons upon tons of pitch black water that was slowly but surely fighting its way through to his panicking brain all the while stealing all the air around him. 

This  _ couldn’t  _ be happening. It hadn’t been in the plan. Nothing  _ close  _ to it. 

The suspension they had seen coming. The delegitimization of Victor and Yuuri’s combined ability to be a suitable guardian for Yuri, that had been number 1 on their list of things that they knew were bound to happen. But  _ this _ ? This was not okay. 

He slowly opened his eyes again to stare at the attached screen-shot of what was most definitely Victor’s beyond bemused mug shot once more before reading the caption.

**_World Champion skater Victor Nikiforov (32) was arrested today on a list of charges ranging from fraudulent legal paperwork to aggravated abduction of a minor and rinkmate -Yuri Plisetsky (17). Sources tell us that a full scale investigation from the Russian Skating Federation has been opened in conjunction to decisions of whether or not to allow Mr. Nikiforov from competing in the upcoming Rostelecom Cup. No further information has been found as World Champion skater Yuuri Katsuki (partner) keeps silent._ **

He glanced down at Christophe’s short message all the while wiping away the hot tears that had started to pool. 

**_Stay put, Mon ami. I am on my way over now. Whatever you do, DO NOT leave the house!!_ **

But before he heard the tell tale sound of car doors shutting and then shouting before the front door was shoved open and slammed shut.

He didn’t remember getting up from the sofa or running the corner through the hallway and to the front, but the next thing he knew he was practically hanging onto Victor who surprisingly held on, holding Yuuri up so his feet barely brushed the ground, hugging him tightly as he leaned into Yuuri who burrowed his head into the crook of Victor neck. He didn’t notice the tears that had started spilling again. All he felt was the safe warmth of being wrapped up between strong familiar arms as the man whispered calming things in his ear. 

Yuuri was so caught up he didn’t hear the surprisingly light steps of Yuri who locked his puffy red rimmed eyes with Yakov halfway down the stairs. But Victor did, and the sight he was seeing felt like a sucker punch to the gut. He gently nudged Yuuri who caught on almost immediately, letting go to let Victor wrap his arms around Yuri who didn’t fight it, which had Victor holding on for longer as he whispered apologies in the blonde’s ear. He could feel the frantic and erratic beat of Yuri’s heart, a clear indicator of the stress the blonde had to be under, especially if it was to a point of making the teen show how much it was affecting him so openly.

“Things are going to be okay.” Yakov cleared his throat before saying. 

“The Russian Figure Skating Federation has been notified of the situation so they’re in the loop. And as for charges, none of them were given. All of them were dropped.” 

Yuri breathed a sigh of relief. 

“However-”

_ Too early…  _

“There was one stipulation concerning the adoption paperwork.” 

Everyone froze. 

“My connection tells me that the paperwork has gone through all the checks but one.” Yakov glanced at Yuri before turning back to Yuuri .

“The source of the charges they arrested Victor with , especially because it is a high profile case, it’s been decided that they will open a trial in the Family and Child courts for the judge to decide whether or not the charges come from a source that is legitimate…” 

“S-source?” Yuuri stammered. He was pretty sure he knew where it had come from. Who the originators of said charges were, but in present company, he wished so much that he was wrong. It just wasn’t  _ fair  _ .

Yakov nodded grimly. 

“According to the Juvenile Affairs office, there were complaints lodged against you and Victor the day we submitted all of the paperwork, but it just didn’t get through until now, in addition to an appeals request that was submitted today on the grounds of  said charges.” Yakov paused, letting Yuuri absorb the information dump. 

Victor was trying hard to keep in the anger that was starting to show as he held on to the blonde who hadn’t yet let go. He was pretty sure Yuri had figured things out already. It would certainly explain the way the hug tightened as Yakov continued to explain the fucked up situation. 

“So we have a court date set for this Saturday at eight AM sharp. It’ll be You and Nikiforov against Mr. and Mrs. Plisetsky with Lyceum FTSH.” Yuri cursed under his breath, holding tighter to Victor who tucked the teen against his chest, running a soothing hand through his messy blonde hair in an attempt at comforting. 

“As for PR, I need you all to stay inside until Saturday. Giacometti messaged earlier that he would be by, so if you need anything, he’ll be able to help, and if not call me.” Yuuri nodded. 

“And for the love of all that is good, keep off the social media. I want total radio silence on everything until the trial is over and then we can go from there.” 

 


	13. Chapter 13

Chris arrived around ten, arms full of gifts in the form of some delicious smelling takeout. His smile had faltered a fraction of a second when he looked passed Yuuri’s shoulder to Victor who hung back, leaning against the wall looking absolutely exhausted. But he managed a small smile. One that made the Swiss’ gut twist in sympathy.

Yuuri grimaced, meeting Chris’s eyes as he ushered him into the warm house, taking a few off the bags.

“Thank you for coming all this way.” it was a little over a whisper but Chris heard, tutting quietly. 

“ _ Yuuri _ , Victor is like a brother to me. So we’re basically family. It’s what family does.” he made short work of getting to the kitchen, putting food some food away while he separated others on the counter.

“I figured you all would be hungry. Yakov told me everyone is on house arrest.” he smirked briefly. 

“Reminds me of that one time after your twenty first.” Victor smiled wryly decidedly not elaborating. But it didn’t hamper the Swiss who seemed to be on a mission to lighten the heavy mood. 

“I’ve got Chinese takeout. I’m sure Yakov will forgive me just this once. And I’ve got some soup as well.” he pushed the group of containers towards the two who simply stared. 

Dinner.  _ Right  _ … that’s what they’d forgotten about… 

“And where’s Plisetsky?”  

“Upstairs. He said he was going to bed.” Yuuri murmured. 

“Can’t really blame him. It’s a lot to take in.” Chris responded, taking initiative, taking the lids off. 

The two nodded solemnly. 

“Apart from the whole parents thing, has he been informed of everything else or…?” 

“Everything else?” Yuuri’s brows furrowed. 

“Does he know about the ISU and the upcoming Rostelecom? I know all three of you have somehow gotten assigned to Russia. But from what I’ve seen on social media and some sites… well, it’s not looking too good to be honest with you.” 

There was a beat of silence before Victor sighed, reaching for one of the containers and a fork. 

“I’m not surprised, and I’m ready to sit this season out if need be but… We’re trying to keep it a secret from Yura for as long as we can. With the type of person he is, he’s going to blame himself and it’s  _ definitely  _ going to affect his program.” 

Chris glanced between the two in momentary confusion, cautious hesitation evident in his expression. 

“Have you two..checked-uh- checked your social media recently?” he grimaced pulling out his own phone. 

The two moved in scary synchronization, turning to level Chris with wary eyes. 

“No?” Victor answered shortly. “Why?” 

Chris unlocked his phone, tapping away before bringing up a saved article, putting his phone down on the counter, turning it before pushing towards the two. 

**_Yuri Plisetsky’s Grand Prix Bid Under Fire From ISU_ **

They didn’t need to read any further than the title to understand.

Victor looked away, swearing strings of Russian curses under his breath. 

Yuuri continued to scroll, eyes widening as he continued to read. 

“But he’s done nothing wrong!” he argued, anger building as he continued to read the article. 

“They’re pulling things from all the way from last year as well!”Yuuri hissed angrily. 

“Overlapping as in, overlapping with  _ me _ ?” Victor asked quietly as he met Chris’s eyes, looking growingly horrified. 

“They’re trying to bench him because of the arrest?” the Swiss was at a loss for words as he watched his best friend crumble a little inside. 

“Victor, no. Listen to me. That was one hundred percent not your fault. That was on the parents. Not you.” He reached over the counter to grip Victor’s shoulders as he tried his best to try to get the sincerity through to the dazed skater who was gripping the fork a little tighter than absolutely necessary. 

The tense silence that had descended was suddenly broken by the shrill tone of Yuuri’s phone that went off somewhere in the living room. 

No one moved for a split second, tensing against the sudden noise before Yuuri strode out to get it leaving Christophe to return to trying to placate the internally panicking Victor who’d gone eerily silent. 

“Phichit? It’s like two in the morning over there. Should you be asleep?” he greeted warily. 

“That’s  _ not  _ what you should be focusing on right now, Yuuri!” the Thai skater shouted back, prompting Yuuri to pull the phone away from his ear.

“Have you been on twitter recently, like within the last half an hour?” he demanded. 

“No…? Victor and I have been off social media. Yakov wanted silence so we had to take Yura’s phone as well...” 

“Oh my god. Ok. You don’t have to post anything, just go on twitter right now!” he hesitated a moment before deciding to sit. He had a feeling he’d need to sit through this one… 

And after a deep breath, he tapped the twitter app on his phone and waited with baited breath for it to load. 

And load it did. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths as an uncomfortably familiar feeling of nausea and panic started to build in his gut as his heart beat started to pick up speed. 

Bright red notifications greeted him the moment he opened his eyes again. Hundreds upon hundreds of posts that he’d personally been tagged in. 

“Why-there’s..there’s just so many, Phichit…” his head spun as he tried to build up enough courage to see what exactly it was that had him near trending. 

“Yuuri, take a deep breath before you click, okay. And don’t freak out all at once, alright. It’s not for certain yet. I just-you deserve to know before it twists any further.” 

The little pep talk did nothing to calm his racing nerves, so with the sudden influx of anxiety induced adrenalyn, he tapped on the notifications and tapped the first one he saw. 

And his brain froze the first time he read through the  _ noticeably _ short post. 

**_#Podiumfam for the win. @ISU stop the injustice!_ **

**_# savekatsuki_ **

“Save Katsuki?” 

“Refresh your feed. I just tagged you in something.” 

Yuuri obliged, letting his feed reload before tapping on the newest notification from Chulanont himself. 

It led to a linked site that lead to a popular sports blog that he along with many others in the skating community followed. 

**_Podium Fam Vs. ISU: Rostelecom Madness_ **

“Phichit, this is a joke, right?” he scrolled down, skimming through the opinion piece. 

**_With Nikiforov and Plisetsky most likely benched for the season, fans turn to the last of the podium fam to see what will happen. And while Katsuki technically has been in the clear legally from the information that has been released, he’s not in the clear just yet with the ISU. New sources say that his proximity, personally, to both (potentially) benched skaters has put him in a grey area of a sorts, mostly with the fact that Nikiforov’s (dropped) charges of aggravated abduction of a minor happened to be centered around Plisetsky whom he and Katsuki both signed guardianship papers to. That being said, it is definitely in the realm of possibility that Katsuki himself may be held responsible as well beside Nikiforov. This has been made known to a few lower levels of the ISU and inside sources tell us that not everyone thinks the idea is absurd. Said sources say that there are individuals within the ISU who believe that the best course of action would be to just bar the entire podium fam for the season._ **

**_Any thoughts?_ **

**_Ps. Giacometti, you should watch yourself. Sources say there’s a list and your name’s on it!_ **

 

“This is a joke. It’s got to be a joke. Phichit this can’t be real. They can’t just bench all three of us.” his voice grew word by word as anxious hands wove their way through his hair. 

“It’s speculation, Yuuri. But it’s out there and you deserve to know about it. But also, now that you know about it, keep Plisetsky safe, alright? He’s just a kid, and it looks like things are going to be bad for a little bit.” 

Yuuri grunted in agreement, breezing through the farewell semi consciously before moving back to the kitchen where Victor and Christophe were both respectively staring at their phones, eyes wide following Yuuri as he took his spot next to Victor once more, grabbing a container and a fork as well. 

He started to dig in, eyes staring lasers as the food on his fork as he shovel bite after bite into his mouth, chewing angrily, reaching for a can of soda in one the many bags. 

The other two shared a silent conversation before Victor opened his mouth, only to promptly shut it when Yuuri brought up his hand, gesturing for him to stop. 

“It’s speculation, and until the ISU comes over here with some sort of  _ official  _ paperwork, I don’t want to hear a single word.”

He dug out another bite and Victor deflated, staring at his friend for help. 

Christophe shook his head shrugging. He wasn’t about to open that can of worms, leaving a tense silence to descend on the kitchen as Victor started reluctantly eating. 

It was a full five minutes before anyone noticed the small but growingly noticeable noise coming from upstairs. 

“Do you-do you guys hear that or is that just me?” Christophe put his phone down. 

Yuuri and Victor froze, listening for whatever it was the Swiss had just heard. Jolting when they heard it as well. 

“Is that Makka?” Yuuri put his food down, hurrying out of the room and up the stairs. They heard his footsteps of upstairs, stopping before they heard a door open and the unmistakable  _ click clack   _ of Makka’s nails on the hardwood flooring before hearing her run side by side with Yuuri who seemingly ran to the other side of the house before opening yet another door, more quietly this time. 

“VICTOR!” 

The platinum haired skater didn’t miss a beat, all but throwing his food down on the table before taking off, with Christophe trailing close by.

“Yuuri! What? What happened?! Are you alright?!” he nearly tripped in his haste to take the sharp corner from the stairs to the opposite end of the hall from their shared bedroom to the guest room where Yuuri was staying. 

Christophe froze before turning around, nearly flinging himself down the stairs in his haste to get back down the stairs to the front hall; more specifically to the small table he’d put his keys down on when he arrived. 

Low and behold, they weren’t there. But his fears were put to fruition within a moment when everyone froze to the sound of Victor’s own car starting outside. 

And before Christophe could get the door open and get outside, all he could see was the jet black car speeding away into the night leaving a street full of confused reporters trying to chase after. 

“He took my keys!” Christophe answered before either of the two panicked skaters could even ask. 

_ “Shit!”  _  Victor hissed, pulling out his phone and dialing Yakov. 

Oh, this was  _ not  _ going to end well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri be overhearing things o_o   
> poor Yuri...


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @Leradomi - Hopefully this will explain?   
> Questions are good!

“It has been less than eight hours, Nikiforov.  _ Eight _ . I ask you all for radio silence and  _ this  _ is what you give me?!” Yakov didn’t sound angry per say. More stressed than anything else from what the three could hear from Victor’s on speaker call as they sat huddled around the living room. 

“He said he was going to sleep. We didn’t hear a sound! I swear it! And then we heard Makka which was weird because she was sleeping with Yura. But we heard her in our room and Yuuri went to check and he was gone! I think he jumped out of the window…” 

There was a strangled sound on the other hand before Yakov sighed, taking a deep breath. 

“And you’ve tried calling him?” 

“His phone isn’t here but it’s not on either.” Yuuri answered quickly, running stressed fingers through soft Makka’s fur. It was like she knew he needed the warm weight to ground him while his mind was running rampant in panic mode trying to figure out what the  _ hell  _ Yuri was doing.

“So he’s taken your car, Victor, Giacometti’s keys, and took his phone but shut it off. Is that right?” 

“Yes.” the three chimed in at once. 

“And he just up and left out of the blue.” 

There was a moment of hesitation before Yuuri answered just a tad remorsefully. 

“Yuri might have overheard part of my conversation with Phichit. He called me to ask if I’d seen the recent speculation on a really popular non-official ISU blog. Something about all three of us possibly being benched for the season…” 

They heard a string of curses from the otherside. 

“It’s just speculation! And at this point even if it were real, they’re focused on Victor.” 

“Well actually…” Victor cut in sheepishly. 

“They pulled the grey area part in. You know, the not entirely emancipated but not adopted, legally grey area, in. I think his parents are in on it as well. There are chunks of information out there that should have been known just between us. Particularly that part about losing his status.” he rushed. 

“And apparently there’s been  _ ‘speculation’  _ that the fraudulent paperwork charge was specifically pushed by the Plisetsky’s lawyer on the grounds that; since the original contract was technically broken our claim of Yura’s legal guardians was voided, so when we filed again, we technically weren’t his guardians and therefore it was incorrect. Not enough for a felony once you really examine it, but they’ve got friends in high places. And it was definitely personal because Yuuri and I both signed. They just pushed for me instead. I’m sure they knew the charges wouldn’t stand, but they knew what the publicity would do.” 

“Those bastards.” Yakov growled. 

“And as for the aggravated abduction, I don’t even know how they got that one through, but apparently they’ve got someone to tail us. Something about how Yura looked tired and stressed and a little scared. Their lawyer played around with that as well. The slander part was all Lyceum FTSH. They’re using the livestream.” 

There was a beat of silence before Victor scrubbed a hand over his tired eyes, letting go of the breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. 

“Yakov. Do you think he’s going to hurt himself?” it was a little more than a whisper but with the weight of so much fear behind it. He was scared, plain and simple. He was no longer in control of the situation that was  _ very  _ quickly spinning out of control. But it wasn’t just him this time. He couldn’t just grit his teeth and bear the brunt of it. 

He had to  _ think _ . Really and truly push through all of it and  _ fight  _ because this time the stakes were terrifyingly high. 

Yura, his basically little brother. He was family now. But things were starting to crumble and he’d be  _ damned  _ if he let the kid fall, all alone. Toxic parents aside, he knew that the situation was more than stressful. What with the uncertainty of his status. The uncertainty of what the hell his parents had planned. The fact that the normally solitary kid had to endure his private life getting paraded around social media as people picked his life apart piece by piece as he stood powerless to stop them. It  _ had  _ to be hard. The shittiest of shitty weeks.

But the situation was changing in an extremely sobering way with Yuri’s newest unknown plans. 

Had he gotten fed up with the situation? The countless faceless people picking things apart? His parents? What was it? Where did he go? Why did he just leave? Was he okay?

Gods.. that was the question running through Victor’s mind non-stop and he just wished the blonde would at least turn his phone back on. Being hung up on would have at least given Victor a little leeway in terms of rest. 

But for now he felt like he was on the verge of collapsing in panic. 

Would Yuri Plisetsky hurt himself? 

Had he ever really gotten to a low enough point to warrant those thoughts? 

For fuckssake! Why hadn’t Victor ever asked? He could cry. He was sure of it. Cry from the stress. The utter disappointment and bitterness against himself. 

Why had he never pushed before? Why was he thinking of this all just now? What could  _ possibly  _ be running through Yuri’s mind at nearly eleven PM on a Wednesday night that could excuse him stealing Victor’s car and driving off without another word? 

“Vitya. Vitya!” he snapped back out of it, slightly dazed at the rush of thoughts. 

“I’m going to take a loop around the city. Giacometti-” 

“Yes, sir?”

“I’m going to send someone by in a few minutes. He knows how to wire cars.” 

“Wh-not even going to ask. Ok. We’ll loop around as well, and keep an eye on social media. I have high faith in Yuri’s Angels.” Christophe nodded. 

“Just whatever you do, please, for the love of all that is good. No evidence worthy photos!” 

* * *

 

He shut the car off and sat staring at the expensive looking glass and steel architecture, gathering his thoughts. He’d need all the sanity he had left for what he was about to do. So he counted to fifty and pocketed the keys before emerging from the dark interior of the sleek black car he parked right near the entrance, blocking off a certain familiar garish red sports car in the reserved spot. 

It took quite a lot of self control to leave the other car as it was to just head towards the trunk first like he had planned. 

Trunk.

Steel bat. 

And then he could have free reign for as long as he wanted to. 

Or at least as long as they caught on. Which if he remembered correctly, would be quite a while with only the  _ necessary  _ people left to work late. 

If everything went according to plan, he’d be able to pay his father a surprise visit. 

Right after he was done with the car.  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much angst. Very wow.  
> A short bridge chapter packed with senseless violence and angst and the beginning of the slow but steady effect of stress on the thin ice that is Yuri Plisetsky's mental health.

“Excuse me, sir. You can’t be-” the flustered secretary shot up and around his corner desk and scrambled to grab Yuri who hadn’t even bat an eyelash since he stepped out of the elevator seconds prior. 

“Touch me and there _will_ be blood, you hear me?” the secretary caught himself just in time to avoid running into the steel bat Yuri was brandishing at him, abruptly stopping his stride. 

“This is a _family_ affair so why don’t you-” he poked the man’s square on the chest with the bat, face scrunched into an expression of irate bitterness. “-go downstairs and get some coffee ready.” he paused a moment, glancing towards the solemn businessy looking double doors of the office mere meters away from where he stood. 

“On second thought, he’s probably going to want some vodka or something.” he took a step forward, forcing the man to take a conscious step back. 

“ _Now_ .” he growled, eyes narrowing as his patience started wearing thin. “I have absolutely _no_ qualms of creating collateral damage, so I’m going to say this one last time. _Go”_

The man took one last terrified wide eyed glance at Yuri who looked like the physical manifestation of an oncoming storm, ready to destroy any and everything in his path in righteous anger, before sprinting away, nearly skidding into the door of the stairs in his haste to vacate the soon to be explosion zone. 

Yuri made sure the door clicked shut behind the fleeing man before setting his furious gaze on the doors once more, squaring himself. He adjusted his grip on the metal bat that hung limply at his side before striding over and kicking the door with all his might and fury. 

And when the door slammed open, he had to admit he was half surprised it had worked in the first place and half near _giddy_ at the fact that this was actually happening. 

He had made it to his father’s law firm, wrecked the man’s car and made it to his office without much hassle which was _definitely_ far from the stressed out near manic web of plans he had made when he sat on the stairs to hear just how fucked up the entire situation was. 

And it was all because of him. 

As much as he knew Victor and Yuuri or any of the other skaters who were in the loop would ever admit it, he, Yuri Plisetsky, was the common denominator in all of this, and it was _killing_ him inside. 

He was low key a little worried about just how far the anger was taking him. What had started as a simmer was now closer to a volcanic eruption than anything else, and in the current state of mind, he didn’t care how destructive all of this was. He needed an outlet. A proper apology and amends and someone to fix everything that had been messed up, and he’d start with the people at the very top of the list; his very own _parents._

He strode in, eyes ablaze as he took in the sight of his surprised father who had been so taken aback he hadn’t gotten to stand from his seat, staring at Yuri in shock. 

Yuri turned, shutting the door with a click and bolted it shut before turning back to face his father. 

“ _You_ ” he spit, as adrenaline coursed through his body in waves. He didn’t even have time to comprehend what his body was doing before the damage was done. He felt the delicious feeling of raw fury transformed into action as he swung the bat at the triple screens, smashing them off the desk in chaotic noise. And once they were out of his reach he moved on to the next thing, smashing mugs and picture frames. Sending stacks of paper flying in conjunction with pieces of ceramic and glass. It just felt so _good_. Like he had gotten even just a fifth of the penance he deserved. 

But the smashing came to a halt quicker than he would have liked, leaving him to face his father in the chaos he had created. 

“Y-yura-”

“ _Don’t_ call me that. You’ve lost that right ages ago.” Yuri brought the bat dangerously close to his father’s face. 

“Yuri-” he started off shakily, internally debating whether or not to make direct eye contact with the infuriated teen. 

“I know you’re angry bu-”

He was cut off with a sharp scoff followed by indignant burst of fake laughter before he jolted, recoiling as Yuri slammed the head of the bat down hard on the glass desktop sending fractals of cracks running through the expensive desk he was sitting at, plunging the room into icy silence. 

“Angry…?” he continued to chuckle. 

“Oh no. no no no. I’m not angry.” he took a deep breath. 

“Not angry. I’m furious. No… more than furious.” he leaned in staring the man down, the cold hatred was almost tangible. 

“Everything I’ve worked  for in the last ten plus years-” he growled. 

“The sheer amount of time and effort I put in _alone_ while you and _mother_ decided to go and do whatever the fuck it was you two did. What? Did you two get bored or some shit? Didn’t have anything better to do with your lives so you two decided to come fuck up mine?” he didn’t notice the fact that every word was getting progressively louder. Or the fact that his father was staring in wide eyed horror as the vitriol laced words came hurtling out of his mouth like spitfire. 

“ _You_ left _me_ you son of a bitch. And you should have _never_ come back.” he emphasized with one last hit, sending the entirety of the glass desktop shattering, bouncing off the hardwood floor below. 

“So let me make one thing _very_ clear. You better pray things work out this Saturday because I won’t have anything left to lose at that point and you better trust and believe I’m taking you two down with me. So help me god; there _will_ be blood.”

And with one last furious gaze he turned right around, unlocked the door and walked straight out, following the direction of the secretary earlier, down the stairs and back out into the cold night to the black Mazerati crowned in fragments of shattered glass from the wreck of a car it was blocking. 

—————

“Yura!” he flinched as he was suddenly pulled into a tight hug, arms limp at his sides.

“Oh my god. We were so worried! You can’t _do_ that. You can’t just disappear like that!” Victor held him by his shoulders  out at arms length, surveying the teen’s face for any signs of injury and distress before his eyes finally noticed the familiar bat in the blonde’s hand.

He froze, staring at it for a solid moment before meeting Yuri’s eyes again, this time in fearful concern. 

Yuri’s eyes flitted behind the man to see the other two plus Yakov hanging back near the living room all equally looking wary after noticing what Victor had noticed. 

He stared resolutely back, meeting Victor’s gaze head on with his own unfocused and slightly hazy eyes before shrugging the man’s hands off, making his way stiffly to the stairs, climbing without a second thought; moving until they heard a firm click of a door shutting. 

Victor stood balking, staring at the space Yuri had been only moments earlier. 

“Was that a bat in his hand?” Christophe started, moving slowly towards the shocked skater. 

Victor turned to face Yakov, eyes wide in confusion and worry, almost like he was afraid to admit what he was about to admit.  

“I-I could smelled alcohol on him….” 

Yakov shared a tense look with Victor before moving towards the stairs, shoulders stiff as he prepared himself to step out of his comfort zone to try to comfort the blonde, or whatever it was that was needed at this point.

But he froze before he could take a single step up the staircase, tensing in surprise along with the rest as a muffled but still terrifying heart wrenching scream tore from Yuri’s room followed by the sound of something shattering, most likely against the hardwood flooring. 

But silence descended within seconds, plunging them into a more frigid and palpable silence as they all stared up at the staircase unknowing of what to do. 

   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure none of the parenting articles Victor and Yuuri read up on prepared them for something quite like this...


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May or May not have listened to “Lose Yourself” by Eminem while writing this chapter 🤷🏻♀️

Yuri awoke around one in the afternoon to a god awful case of cotton mouth and what he could only assume was what it felt like to be hungover. Something he never  _ ever  _ wished to be ever again. But the feeling of hung over regret at binge drinking the entire bottle of what the secretary actually had in his hands when he stormed downstairs was absolutely  _ nothing  _ compared to the sudden thought that sparked fury in his gut. Of course it sucked. He had no idea how it felt to be hungover because he never put his body through that because his career was more important. A drink or two here or there was  _ nothing  _ compared to downing an entire bottle. Something he never got to do, even with friends, even on the off season. All of that self control and missed out memories, all for what had been the most important thing in his entire life, all possibly getting ripped away from him in two day’s time. 

He potentially had  _ two  _ precious days left of being an athlete, if his current status even allowed him that privilege. And in all honesty, it was white hot terror inside his mind as his stomach did flips. 

So was it  _ really  _ a hangover or was it closer to Katsuki’s brand of malaise? 

He screwed his eyes shut, trying to minimize all physical movement until his brain wouldn’t let him go, and in one jagged and  _ nauseating _ movement, he staggered upright and to the big bedroom window and threw it open, breathing in gloriously cold air. It stung but it was what he needed, eyes staring out at the quiet street in the darkness of the room with the thankfully overcast sky. And for the first time since he lurched awoke to the distinct feeling of wanting to puke his guts out, he felt at peace. 

A sort of calm before the storm.  He needed his wits about him. Yesterday night was completely created from stressed induced near feverish delirium. A one off spontaneous choice that would be just that; one off. With that card having been used, he needed to strategize now. The stakes were too high to be so careless. 

He needed to  _ think _ . Think like his life depended on it because in all technicality it did. His entire career depended on it, and he was  _ not  _ about to forcefully retire at seventeen. That shit was just  _ not  _ going to fly. 

Yuri stared over his shoulder, not even hearing the knock through his frenzied thoughts. 

Victor took a tentative step in before immediately backtracking, taking an unconscious step back at the worrying view of Yuri half twisted up in the fluffy duvet almost falling off the bed with the window wide open while the weather outside brinked on below freezing. The cherry on top of the ice cream sunday of alarming happened to be the sharp but frenzied quality of Yuri’s glare at a point that seemed to be staring past Victor to something that just  _ wasn’t _ there. 

“ _ What _ ?!” he snapped, quickly flicking his gaze on to Victor who just took a moment to stare in heavy silence, long fingers gripping down on the doorframe for support. 

Even Makka stopped in her tracks behind Victor before turning and rushing back down the stairs, whimpering as she went. 

“Yuri, are you-we-we were just worried you weren’t getting up.” his eyes never left the blonde who hadn’t moved. 

“It’s almost two…” 

“And…?” 

“Hangovers are worse on an empty stomach....” 

They stared in silence for a solid minute before Victor’s attention was snapped sideways to quiet footfalls coming up the stairs. 

It was the push Yuri needed as a moment of clarity struck through his sluggish but strangely racing mind. Katsudon would most likely freak out if Victor’s reaction had been anything to go off of. And if Katsudon freaked it would be enough to push his frazzled mind off the metaphorical ledge he woke up on a few moments ago. And then his attempts to collect himself would be turn to shit and there would be  _ chaos _ .

That doomsday-esque thought alone had him tumbling out of the bed, pulling his hood up before rubbing a shaky hand down his face, stumbling a little bit before regaining his balance all but clawing Victor’s collar to pull the man into the room away from the sight in the hall to hiss out an “I’m  _ fine _ ” with a glare that very much said otherwise. 

Victor, for all he was worth in his own chaotic way managed to maneuver Yuri’s hard shove into what looked more like a voluntary step back, somehow moving his arms in sync to shut the door gently before turning and nearly running straight into a concerned looking Yuuri who stood with a mug of coffee and tailed by Makka while leveling Victor with an uncomfortably speculative gaze.  

He quirked an inquiring brow at the shut door. 

“He’s getting up now, just a little morning grumpiness.” Victor lied with a chuckle, noticeably  _ not _ meeting Yuuri’s gaze. 

“It’s almost  _ two _ , Vitya. Is he okay?” his expression was all Victor needed to know that the man was not buying his lie at  _ all _ .

“It was a stressful night, love. I’m sure he’s exhausted as well. Teenage hormones and all.” Victor grimaced. 

Yuuri stared just long enough to make Victor want to squirm before nodding. 

“Okay. But we’ve got a bit of a...situation.” 

“Oh…?” 

Yuuri hummed disapprovingly. 

“I got a call a few minutes ago from our lawyer.” 

_ Oh….oh no… _

“He said that the Plisetskys are hoping to cut a deal.” 

“ _ Oh? _ ” 

The rollercoaster of emotions was starting to make Victor feel dizzy. Probably closer to what Yuri was feeling than anything else. 

“They knew what they were doing. They’re five minutes away. Closer now, I guess. They wanted to talk to Yura personally.” 

Victor felt his vision tunnel for a moment before the  _ thump thump thump _ of his heart beat became almost tangible. 

“Right.. now...?” he managed to get out as he felt his head tense sharply, beating an excruciating pattern behind his eyelids. 

“Within the next few minutes, yes. He doesn’t have to but… The lawyer said it would be a good idea to at least hear them out. And we’re allowed to stay with him through the meeting if he wants us to.” 

And before they could discuss anything any further Yuri’s door swung open mere moments before Makka lost it, rushing down the stairs to the door where the doorbell started to ring in an almost  _ cruel  _ synchronization to the chaos that was about to be unleashed. 

But the blonde had been ready, shoving the two out of the way as he jumped the stairs three at a time to rush downstairs and rip the door open, staring blankly at the figures standing before him. 

“Yura! Sweety-” Victor felt his soul straight up leave his body as he and Yuuri rounded the stairs just in time to see Yuri take a step forward, completely ignoring his glamorously dressed mother to step, barefoot, to his suit clad father who looked ready to bolt. 

And before anyone could say another word he pulled his fist back and  _ swung  _ hitting his father square on the jaw, but he caught the man’s tie, sending him stumbling forward until they were eye to eye. 

“Am I a  _ joke  _ to you?” 

The man spluttered, trying to shove the boy off. But Yuri’s grip was iron and he was  _ furious _ .

“Is this shit funny to you?” 

“Yura!” Victor jolted forward, latching on to Yuri’s front, trying to drag him off as Yuuri moved with surprising speed, trying to unlatch the blonde’s grip from his father. 

“Yuri, you don’t want to do this. They’re here to negotiate!” Yuuri tried to reason. 

But he was far too gone in his rage to register anything else. His vision was crimson. 

“I’m going to wipe that smile off your face. You hear me?! I’m going to drag you down so far you won’t even  _ remember _ what laughter is!” he hissed, millimeters from the man’s face.

And without warning he let go, sending Victor stumbling backwards, righting himself just in time to catch Yuri as well. 

Yuri in turn had snatched up Yuuri’s sleeve, dragging him back with him back into the threshold of the house before he slammed the door shut, throwing Victor’s hands off of him. 

“I’m  _ fine _ ” he gritted out before turning and making his way back upstairs to his room before slamming the door shut. 

Yuuri swallowed thickly at the sound of the deadbolt, feeling a sudden wave of nauseating worry wash over him as the past few minutes came rushing back. 

“Vitya.” 

Victor’s eyes snapped back from the stairs. 

“ _ Vitya.”  _

“ _ Shit!”  _ Victor hissed through clenched teeth. 

“Victor!” Yuuri snapped, just sharp enough to bring Victor back to earth. 

“Call Yakov. Right now. We are  _ not  _ doing this. He’s not in the right mind, love. He needs help, right now.” 

They locked eyes, conversing silently, grounding themselves to figure out how to go about fixing the utter  _ shit show  _ that had just happened right before their own eyes.

Victor nodded, slapping himself to bring him fully back to his senses before he whipped out his phone and dialed the familiar number.

Yuuri turned, striding over to the hallway closet, rummaging through before coming back with a sizeable hammer with a wedge end. 

“He can’t be alone right now, Vitya. He’s not in the right state of mind, might do something dangerous.” 

Yuuri reached for the phone before handing Victor the hammer. 

“Hello, Yakov? I know you’re with the juniors today but we need you over as soon as you can. We’ve got a...situation.” he nudged Victor, prompting him to rush up the stairs, knocking on Yuri’s door. 

“Yura? Open the door, please. We need to talk.” 

There was no response. 

“- _ think he’s disassociating. Definitely panicking. I’ll explain later. But for now…” _ Victor heard Yuuri downstairs. 

“Yura…?” he knocked louder. 

“Yuri. Open the door!” 

He felt an ominous chill run down his spine seconds before he heard the scream from outside the house. 

“Oh my  _ god!”  _

It was all he needed to slam the heavy hammer into the area of the door nob, sending the door flying in. 

And then he froze, eyes roaming the empty room in a panic before he realized with gut wrenching horror that the window no longer had a screen. He moved in strangely disconnected strides over to the window just in time to see Yuri coming to a sharp stop two stories down on the icy grass below before sitting up as though he hadn’t just jumped and tucked out of the second floor. 

“Yuuri! He’s outside!” he shouted toward the door. It was barely three seconds before he heard Yuuri fumble with the door downstairs before throwing it open wide eyes frantically looking for the blonde while he still held the phone to his ear. 

“Hurry!” he heard Yuuri shout, probably to Yakov before he heard something clatter on the floor near the door. 

Victor saw Yuuri run barefoot past the window toward the back of the house where he last saw Yuri speed off to before he all but threw himself out of the room, rushing downstairs and outside, pausing a moment before taking off the other direction. 

If everything worked out they’d be able to catch Yuri between the two of the before he did anything more dangerous.   

His parents along with the lawyer stood rooted to where they stood near the door, staring in open shock. 

And within a moment he felt his heart stop cold as he saw Yuri’s almost crazed glint of satisfaction less than half a step away from the door of Victor’s car that he parked haphazardly partly on the grass and partly on the actual driveway when he managed to speed back in the early hours. 

He heard the door open and slam shut and lock the moment his fingers grazed the door. 

_ “No! _ Yura, no! Please! Don’t do this.” his hands tapped on the glass, trying to be as gentle as he could manage. 

Taps turned to banging the moment he saw Yuri fish his keys out of the glove compartment, starting the engine, resolutely avoiding Victor’s pleading nearly hysterical eyes as he continued to slam on the window, begging the blonde to stop. 

Yuuri turned the corner, full on faceplanting on the grass as his brain caught up with his eyes. 

But before he could pull himself off the ground Yuri threw the car into reverse and slammed on the gas, sending the car shooting backward and heart stoppingly close to the expensive looking Benz parked just outside their driveway. 

He shot one last furiously hateful look towards his parents before speeding off, leaving behind utter chaos. 

* * *

 

He was  _ fine _ . 

He’d be  _ fine. _

Just needed to get some air. That was all. Some air and some goddamn  _ space _ . 

So he sped on, hunched forward dangerously close to the wheel as he let his frazzled mind figure out what the fuck he was going to do now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that'll definitely put a damper on the paperwork...  
> But also, this fic is gonna be super parental!Victuuri with an actual storyline and plot to all of this chaotic angst(as much as it might not seem like it right now) so buckle up everyone! it's gonna get hella bumpy.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angsty fluff~ nuff said  
> But also - panic attacks and general anxiety

“I didn’t mean to- uh- freak out… before.” Victor couldn’t see Yuri’s eyes as the blonde ducked his head, busying himself  with slowly putting his guards on. Victor let him have his time, standing a little ways away from the door as to not crowd the teen who looked significantly less stressed than he had a little less than an hour ago back at home. 

“It’s understandable. We’re just glad you’re okay.” Victor answered softly, pulling his coat a little tighter around himself to stop the sudden shakiness in his hands. 

Yuri paused before lifting his head and settling the man with a look of cautious disbelief. 

“Is it though?” he quirked a brow as he stepped gently off of the ice. 

This week’s been pretty stressful for everyone, Yura. I can’t even _begin_ to imagine how stressful it must have been for you. You’re only human. We all are.” 

Yuri scoffed looking away, hand still gripping the boards a little tighter than absolutely necessary. 

“I don’t have time to lose it. Rostelecom is in _sixteen_ days, damn it.” he started towards the bench where his bag sat. 

“Yura-”

Yuri all but flung himself down before bending to untie his skates, fumbling slightly. Victor could sense the sudden wave of frenziness in Yuri’s actions. His next few words only cemented that fact as he all but abandoned pulling on what looked like quad knots he’d made in his skates, curling and uncurling his hands to fists as he just tried to _breathe._

“ _Shit._ Am I still even _eligible_ ?” Victor felt his heart pull painfully as he watched shaking hands run through tangled hair, ripping out the ponytail without a semblance or remorse or pause for the pain he _had_ to be feeling. Victor _had_ had long hair once upon a time. He knew far too well how _that_ felt…

He was shaken out of his musings as stormy grey eyes met his own straight on. 

“Do I keep practicing? I-I haven’t got any email or contact saying I was being pulled out… I mean-is it even worth it at this point? What the fuck am I supposed to do?” It felt like he’d been punched, air leaving his lungs at the sudden revelation of a side of Yuri he’d never really seen before. The scared, vulnerable, _child_ side. It shouldn’t have been so shocking with the fact that Yuri technically wasn’t even an adult yet. He was a _teen_ . Seventeen years old with the weight of his entire career on his back. It was obvious to see that he was _very_ close to losing it. 

 _Really_ losing it. 

“Yuri.” Victor ambled over to the bench, taking a moment to push Yuri’s bag to the side before taking a seat. 

“You’re going to hurt yourself stressing so much.” 

Yuri turned sharply, leveling Victor with angry narrowed eyes. 

“Then what the fuck would you do in this situation, huh? What the fuck am _I_ supposed to do? You saw me today. I woke up feeling like I was having a heart attack. Do you know how that feels like? I thought I was _dying._ ” 

Victor listened, jaw tensing as the words continued to rush out like the hectic and panicked state Yuri’s mind probably looked like at the moment. It spoke volumes in showing Victor about what state the blonde was in. 

“Like I was never going to feel alright again, ever. And I didn’t want to worry Katsuki because he’s a good person and he doesn’t deserve my shit situation, and neither do you. Neither of you should have had to get roped into this situation and then that whole bullshit with the ISU came out and-” 

He was starting to hyperventilate, running both hands through his hair in obvious distress.

“-and then my parents showed up and I lost it. I-I don’t even remember everything. I just remember bits and pieces but I know I probably fucked that up too and then I was in your car at the rink…” 

“Yu-.” 

“I couldn’t even land a double. My spins were shit. Couldn’t even remember part of my program-”

He was pulled forward suddenly, getting cut off as Victor pulled him into a tight embrace. 

“Yura. Shut up. Just stop for a second.” 

Yuri tensed at the soft but stern words. Melting into the hug, belatedly noticing that he was shaking. 

_Weird…_

“Breathe. You’re panicking.” 

“I know…” he murmured, voice breaking to a taper.. Victor’s heart tugged some more as he felt a dampness spread on shirt from where Yuri leaned against his chest, swallowing the sobs the best he could.   

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours before Yuri pushed out of the hug, gently but with a sureness that assured Victor that he was okay.

He looked exhausted, circles all the more prominent on his pale pinched face, but there was a calm in his eyes that took Victor’s worry down a notch. 

“Did they-uh-did they end up leaving?” he asked quietly, staring down at his skates. 

Victor chuckled, prompting Yuri to send a quick curious glance at the smile on his face. 

“You missed the best thing _ever_. I should have gotten it on camera.” 

Yuri quirked a brow. 

“Your father tried to get them to leave but your mother wanted to call the police-” Yuri paled even further, eyes widening in worry.

“She was screaming bloody murder, accusing Yuuri and I of brainwashing you and all that.  And the neighbors-they uh- they started to get concerned so they happened to come over. They got front row seats to watch Yuuri almost get slapped across the face.” 

“Are you serious?!” 

“ _Almost_ . He caught her arm before, but then he went _off_ . Yura, for as long as I’ve lived, I’ve _never_ seen someone verbally attack someone else so savagely but in the most polite way ever. It was _unbelievable_. He really stuck up for you, to a point where I had to pull him away because he was for sure about to punch your dad as well when he started saying things.” 

Yuri stilled beside him, taking in everything Victor was telling him. Katsuki had stood up for him, to his parents, out of his own free will. After all the stress he’d probably given the man. Even after potentially getting him disqualified. 

“I’m telling you this because I don’t think you understand that Yuuri and I, we really _really_ care about you, Yura. Seriously. You know, when Yakov told us the plan, Yuuri didn’t even hesitate. Hell, he put in more effort than either of us did. He really cares about you, as much as you probably don’t think his does, and I can assure you that no amount of sass or attitude or anything related to you will change that.”

Yuri looked away, blinking as he felt an irritatingly familiar burning in his eyes. 

“And as for the competition-” 

He stiffened, readying himself for the blow. There was bound to be a fallout. There had to be. 

“Yuuri and I talked with Yakov even before we started the paperwork about any potential bumps, and this just happened to be on the top of the potential bumps list. We were ready to withdraw from the competition when we submitted the paperwork, Yuri. That was something we talked about and agreed to do. We were-are ready to do so still. That’s not something you need to stress about. So no feeling guilty about that. It was our decision.”

“But it’s my fault y-” 

“No. It’s not.” Victor cut him off bluntly. 

“We talked about this, Yuri. You’ve got to understand that this-all of this- isn’t your fault. None of this is on you even though you think it is. It’s on your parents, and we’re going to fix it. Me, Yuuri, Yakov. All of us. We’re going to fix all of this and get you out of this toxic situation.” 

Yuri stuttered deep breathes, trying his best to keep the angry tears at bay as his hands gripped at the edge of the bench.  

“You’re seventeen, Yuri. You shouldn’t have to stress yourself out over your parents’ bad decisions. You have goals and you work hard. That’s what you should be focused on. I know you’ve had to fend for yourself for a really long time now, but I need you to trust us and let go. You focus on what you need to do right now, which is practicing for the competition. Yuuri, Yakov and I are more than capable of handling the rest. That’s how it should be. That’s what Yuuri and I agreed to when we signed all those adoption papers.” 

Victor gaze didn’t waver as Yuri wiped at his eyes with baggy sleeves, looking so tired that it made Victor want to pull him into another hug. But he knew the blonde needed his space right now. He needed to understand that Victor was telling him the truth. 

“This is all so fucked up.” Yuri choked out a wry chuckle that turned into a grimace, staring daggers at the wet spots on his sleeves. 

“It is.” Victor agreed gently.

“But you don’t have to be the adult this time. You don’t have to _just deal_.” 

Yuri nodded numbly. 

“We’ve got dozens of references from so many places. The paperwork is airtight and we’re all ready to fight for this, Yura. And you won’t ever have to see your parents again if you don’t want to after Saturday.” 

“ _Shit_!” Yuri hissed, eyes widening in shock as memories came flooding back, hitting him like a one ton truck. 

“They’re going to bring up last night at the trial.” he turned to Victor, terror rising to the surface of his red rimmed eyes.

“Last night…?” 

“I-when I stole your car and-” 

Victor nodded, bracing himself for the explanation of just what exactly it was that happened that night between the terrifying hours of looping around town trying to track the teen down.

“I went to my dad’s office and I-um-Itrashedhisofficewithabat…” 

Victor balked a moment before quirking a brow in a gesture for Yuri to explain. 

“I overheard Katsuki’s conversation and I-I don’t know, it was like I lost my mind for a moment. I was for sure on the stairs one minute and then I was in your car the next and I just needed to _go_. I don’t even think I meant to go over there in the first place, but I blinked and I was there. And I saw his car and I-um” he scratched his neck sheepishly. 

“I remembered you carried that bat in your trunk and it just seemed like a good idea at the time and then I was just going to total his car at first but then I was so close so I figured I might as well…” 

“You totalled his car?” 

“...yeah…” 

Victor nodded before shrugging. 

“Did you-” he gestured vaguely around before sighing. 

“Did you trash his office too?” 

Yuri nodded silently, wringing his fingers around his sleeves. 

“I just kind of started swinging and didn’t stop until there was nothing left to swing at…” 

“I see…” 

“Yeah..” he finished lamely. 

“Well, I will say one thing.” Victor scooted closer to the blonde, leaning in a conspiratorial way.

“I’m pretty sure your parents are going to be pretty tightlipped about that part.” 

Yuri recoiled, staring at Victor like he’d sprouted another head. 

“Why…?”

“Let’s just say, those neighbors that came by to check, they got to hear some _very_ unsavory things from your parents. Enough so that they volunteered to come in and testify. Even if they did end up mentioning it, their testimony would probably excuse you at the very least…” 

 “Oh…” 

“Yeah.” he nodded with a small smile. 

They sat a while longer in companionable silence before Victor nudged Yuri out of his stupor, gesturing out to the ice. 

“You haven’t taken your skates off yet, right? Might as well run through the program. Maybe we could finalize the new choreo.” 

Victor wouldn’t tell the blonde, but the moment Victor caught the small smile that Yuri ducked his head to hide, he knew two things for certain; everything was going to be okay. and that there would be _words_ with the Plisetskys later….  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor's gonna tear Yuri's parents apart for sure.  
> Any guesses as to what could have been said that would have excused Yuri's rampage? It's gonna be harsh tho... A+ parenting for sure *sarcastic eye roll*


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The playlist for this chapter and the next is as follows: 
> 
> \- Demi Lovato: Sorry Not Sorry  
> \- Winner: HIM   
> \- BTS: Save Me  
> \- 4Minute: I Hate You  
> \- Anuel AA & Nicki Minaj: Familia

The courthouse was surrounded and the courtroom itself was  _ packed _ . The brutal onslaught of bright flashes from the cameras, however, thankfully stopped at the door. The one the three passed through, moving inside in a tight formation with Yuri leading with the other two following closely behind, eyes focused straight ahead all but ignoring the cameras and shouted questions. 

Everyone who was lucky enough to secure a seat in the room turned the moment the trio walked in, gazes focused mainly on the youngest who looked surprisingly well rested in comparison to the measly hour or two he had gotten in the early morning when his body won over his frantically racing mind. Victor had been the one to wake him, mumbling soft apologies as he draped the dry cleaned shirt across the bed he’d been curled up on before quietly leaving. 

He and Katsuki had been chatting softly downstairs in the kitchen over freshly brewed coffee dressed in similar suits in varied hues of dark blue. The stylist had insisted that it would be a good idea, putting them in anything  _ but  _ the typical dark grey to black. Bring in a fresher aspect to their image. 

She wasn’t wrong. 

Dark navy and near cobalt on brilliantly crisp white button-ups tied together with gold and scarlet striped tie that gave everyone a clean and modern look, something they’d decided would be good to use somewhere during the hearing. 

But in all honesty, it felt weird. Cobalt blue was just never something Yuri Plisetsky would have ever casually decided to wear. He looked good. He knew he did. The stylist wouldn’t have given it to him if he didn’t. Hell, Victor probably wouldn’t have let him wear it otherwise. But it just felt so...strange. 

Like it wasn’t really  _ him _ . 

But then again, it was another bullet point in his list of things that didn’t  _ feel  _ right. Things that were messed up; the first and most prominent being the fact that he was going to court against his  _ parents _ of all people because of a goddamned  _ high school diploma _ …

The uncharacteristic suit color was  _ nothing  _ compared to  _ that _ . 

And then there was the little point about the fact that ISU was potentially vetting both Katsuki  _ and  _ Nikiforov so close to the competition. The fact that they’ve had to continue practicing with full intentions of competing while neither of them fully knew whether or not they were actually going to compete. 

And of  _ course, _ the entire leaked program bullshit was still alive and well and  _ very  _ much a problem. They were two weeks and a  _ day  _ to the competition and he knew he wasn’t really completely ready. He was still shaky in some parts and it  _ showed _ . And the fact that he was continuously missing valuable practice time made everything ten times worse. 

Particularly the resentment to his parents that had been simmering the past few days. So much so he wanted to  _ scream. _

But that had been a few minutes of unchecked mental fury he’d allowed himself when he was getting ready. It was game time now. There was no room for angsty mental thoughts or exhaustion or anxiety. 

No. 

Right now he needed to be focused. He needed to be confident and strong, or at least pretend to be because what he didn’t need was for everyone to see what he  _ really  _ felt like. Because it contrasted too much with what people were used to. What they expected of him. Especially now that he was almost an adult. He was identified as being strong and confident and that needed to stay the same. Especially with the competition looming. He knew that his sponsors would be watching. Sponsors, competitors, critics.  _ Everyone  _ would be watching and he couldn’t afford any mistakes. It was hinder everything. 

So he schooled his expression into something closer to blank than focused, straightened his posture, and got out of the back seat of Victor’s car as the other two got out as well, sunglasses mirroring the flashes making Yuri want to recoil back into the car. 

But he gritted through, striding across the front square and briskly up the stairs and into the courthouse without a single glance back. 

\------------------------

Yakov and Lilia were there, seating towards the front looking furiously towards the plaintiff’s side where Mr. and Mrs. Plisetsky along with their lawyer sat, huddled in a last minute finalization meeting. 

They almost missed Yuri walking in, just barely catching his sleeve, bringing Victor and Yuuri to a surprised stop behind him before they realized who it was. 

“After the trial, whatever happens, meet back at the rink,” Yakov ordered quietly, glancing over to the flashes still going on outside. 

“They said something about dropping by your house.” he nodded towards the Plisetskys in disdain. 

Yuuri nodded. 

“We were debating between the house and the rink,” he answered. Victor hummed in agreement. 

“And whatever happens today, Yura, I promise you, your parents won’t get away with all of this so easy. I’m going to make sure of that,  _ personally _ .” Yakov squeezed Yuri’s arm. 

Yuri nodded stiffly, unable to meet Yakov’s eyes. 

Yakov waited for another beat before letting go, gesturing for the trio to go as he took a seat. 

They continued the tight confident stride to the front, flat out ignoring the other side as they greeted their lawyer. 

They’d been given special permission to have both Victor  _ and  _ Yuuri sit up front with Yuri so they took full advantage of it, seating the blonde between the two so that Victor was to his right, blocking Yuri from his parents’ sight. 

Something he took a little bit of satisfying amusement in as he saw the two craning this way and that to try and glimpse a sliver of their son.

But Victor wasn’t about to play that game. Not here and not with them. He was tired and the gravity of the entire situation was really starting to push, and it ignited a new flame of something he could only explain as righteous anger. 

He knew how it felt to be disillusioned so young about familial care, especially parental love. And while his parents left and never really came back into his life, he knew how it felt like to realize that their smallest acts of interest and love had  _ nothing  _ to do with his worth as a son and everything to do with their own self-interest. He knew how it felt like to not have that support system that everyone else in his sphere seemed to have. And yeah, he’d grown out of it pretty fast. Grown thicker more calloused skin against all of that. But he knew that it would hurt at some point. 

He’d been lucky enough to find friends who filled those gaps as best as they could, helped him heal. A clean break hurt less than a fracture, and once it healed, he never really had to think about it again. 

But  _ this _ ?

They’d fractured from his life and returned, hindering the healing process, digging their heels deeper into the wound. This was festering and it had to be painful. 

But Yuri, ever the tough guy, didn’t say a word. He sat up straight, eyes forward and face impassive as he waited for the damn trial to start. And it was just so...infuriating. 

It was insane. 

The entire situation. 

Months of radio silence to pop up so close to a major competition, meddling into affairs that they really had no right to meddle in. 

And for what? For a more positive image for their growing company? To solve a problem that may never even occur? 

They were ready to tear Yuri’s life apart all for protection against a few  _ potential  _ mean words and it made Victor and Yuuri’s blood boil. 

So when the doors finally clicked shut and the judge walked in, Victor and Yuuri made one last assured look to each other before sitting back down, ready to paint the courtroom red. 

\-------------------------------------

“Before we begin, Mr. Plisetsky-” the judge dismissed Yuri’s father, looking to the blonde instead. 

“Mr.  _ Yuri  _ Plisetsky. While you are underaged, I see you have paperwork already in the system.” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Yuri answered, nodding. He breathed an internal sigh at the fact that his voice hadn’t wavered against the surprise question. 

“For partial emancipation.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” the judge nodded in affirmation. 

“Well, seeing as your partial emancipation paperwork has been approved, would you like to say anything for yourself before we begin?” 

That definitely threw the whole defense for a loop as they looked to their lawyer who leaned in to inform Yuri that he didn’t have to if he so chose not to. But if he did, to  _ please  _ for the love of god; keep it appropriate.

Yuri took a breath, closing his eyes a moment before nodding. He stood up and faced the table where his parents sat looking stunned. 

“There are fifteen days,  _ fifteen _ -” he emphasized around a frown. 

“Technically fourteen with the travel and check in, until Rostelecom.” he let that sentence sink in before continuing. 

“I have about two weeks to cement my program to be competition level ready and honestly I don’t think I’m anywhere close, and that’s not because of me or my coach or where I train. It’s because of you two. So I want to make one thing very  _ very  _ clear.” he could feel the entire courtroom tense, holding a collective breath for what he was about to say. 

“You two have been almost nonexistent for the past ten plus years so I’m not surprised. Just more disappointed than I already was. But I  _ will not  _ let you ruin  _ anyone  _ else’s career. So if Katsuki and Nikiforov get dropped this competition, I will  _ never  _ forgive you for that. They’re good people. Better than you two have ever been, and I’d call them family any day over what you two have been.” 

He nodded sharply to the judge before taking his seat, completely ignoring the fact that Victor looked like he was going to cry. Or have a heart attack. Or both. 

Katsuki was watching him as well, fighting to keep a serious face over the smile that broke through. 

“I see… Well, with that, we’ll begin.” the judge struck the gavel, sending echoes resounding. 

This was going to be fun…

\------------------------------

“I’d like to remind the Plisetsky’s that their son is a nationally, if not,  _ globally _ ranked athlete. Surely that must make up for a diploma?” 

Yuri held his eye roll along with the  _ EXACTLY _ that threatened to pop out. 

“He ranked first in the Barcelona Grand Prix Final during his senior debut. He’s continuously placed during the seasonal competitions, and for those of you who aren’t aware, the upcoming competition; Rostelecom is a pre-Grand Prix competition. This is going to decide who moves up and who doesn’t. The fact that he’s come this far once again means that he’s continuously been doing very well. Well enough to potentially put him into the run for another Grand Prix win.” their lawyer quirked a brow at Yuri’s parents who steadily avoided his eyes. 

“So wouldn’t you think that as responsible and loving parents, Mr. and Mrs. Plisetsky could have at least waited until the season was over?” he shrugged. 

“Did they even  _ know _ ?” he turned to the judge who motioned for the Plisetsky’s to respond. 

“B-beg your pardon?” Mr. Plisetsky leaned into the mic. 

“When you and Mrs. Plisetsky decided on this whole ‘diploma’ idea, did you know what Yuri’s schedule looked like?” 

There was a pause before he answered. 

“Um-We were informed that it was an ok time. Especially with the school year has begun only a month prior. We didn’t want to stick him in school halfway through the year.” 

“Okay, but did you know it was halfway through the skating year? He finished his mandatory schooling about four-ish years ago, by law. So there was no reason he had to be in school in the first place.” 

“He doesn’t have a diploma. He never-” 

“Yes, but he has world rankings. He has sponsorships and shows and a steady income, especially for a person his age. He has an expected growth line in terms of skill. You could tell by the very people who’ve petitioned to adopt him. For those of you who aren’t aware, Mr. Nikiforov is thirty-one and still going strong. Mr. Katsuki is twenty-seven, a full ten years older than Plisetsky but both still competing and still holding their rankings. So with that in mind, wouldn’t it be good for Yuri to be setting the foundations for his long term career, which is obviously in skating? He’s been skating for more than ten years in a row. What other job do you want him to have?” 

There was no answer. 

“And if the documents aren’t incorrect, you’ll see that Mr. Plisetsky actually held a sustainable flat with groceries while training, living technically alone since he was sixteen. But he’s also had his coach basically step in as his parents because they, for some reason or another, weren’t  _ there _ .”

_ Oh… that was a hard blow… _

“And since his partial emancipation went through, he’d still be allowed to live at his own flat and continue skating. The only hindrance would be his parents wanting a diploma on top of the grueling training, which, in all honesty, is just  _ cruel _ .” 

“Objection!” everyone turned to the other side where Yuri’s mother looked red in the face. 

“Yes?” the judge quirked a brow. 

“How can this man who doesn’t even know Yuri say that he knows him better than his own  _ mother _ ? Than his own  _ parents _ ?!” 

“Your honor-” Yuri’s lawyer brought up a hand.

“Mr. Nikiforov would like to request he be allowed to answer Mrs. Plisetsky’s question.” the judge looked between the two angry Russians before nodding. 

“You’ve been with Yuri up until he was about six or so, isn’t that right? With your busy schedule, Yuri was left with his grandfather early on.” 

She didn’t answer, eyes narrowing as she saw where this conversation was going. 

“So you knew Yuri for six years. And then he started training at the rink with Yakov around when he was what, eight? Nine?” he quirked a brow, smirk beginning to grow. 

“So by your logic, the person who should know him best are his parents. But  _ I’ve  _ personally known Yuri for eight-nine or so years? So by sheer time alone, I knew him longer than you have. I’ve lived with him, trained with him, saw him grow. So in that case, since I knew him longer and lived with him longer and know more about him, like what his schedule actually looks like, wouldn’t you say I’m more suited to raise him? We have the same career and if anything, I can mentor him even more if he’s by my side. Isn’t that what would be the best for him right now? He has a rink, has a coach and everything that comes with the rink like PTs and nutritionists and general health and wellness. He has a home with a room that is his very own. And two people who would more than anything else, like to be able to help Yuri be the best.” 

“Objection!” Mrs. Plisetsky shouted, not even waiting for Victor to continue. 

“You two are competitors. Why would anyone take in people they directly compete against?! That’s just stupid. How do I know that you’re not going to abuse him?” she quieted down as her lawyer nudged her none too softly, looking at the judge who looked ready to have her kicked out of the room for the exclamation. 

“Your honor?” Victor gritted out, nodding in thanks as she gestured for him to speak. 

“Abuse? Do you know what’s abusive? The words that came out of your very own mouth yesterday. I will  _ not  _ be repeating them but we have two neighbors who have testified under oath at the police station last night.” he held up a folder, handing it gracefully to the guard who took it to the judge to read through.

“I see…” 

“There are  _ hundreds  _ of people who’ve worked with us both who can attest to the fact that our relationship, even as competitors, has been nothing but positive and respectful. My home has been open to him for years now and as I said before, we’ve trained under the same coach in the same rink for years now. Yuri is fiercely independent, and if he really wanted to, he could have requested full emancipation and just cut everyone else off but  _ he  _ signed off on the adoption papers as well.  _ He  _ agreed to this, and  _ his  _ decision was his alone.” Victor paused, glancing over to Yuuri who nudged his hand with his own, reaching a little past Yuri on the table before giving Victor a final nod. 

“And as for competitors and conflict of interests,” he turned towards the other side before standing, taking a moment to run a sweeping gaze across the silent courtroom and back to Yuuri who smiled, putting a grounding hand on Yuri’s shoulder, bracing him for what was to come. 

“Yuuri Katsuki and I would like to inform everyone here that we will  _ officially  _ be withdrawing from the Rostelecom Cup as of today.”

There was a moment of  _ frigid  _ silence before Yuri effectively broke it with a single whispered “the  _ fuck _ ?” 

And then the whole room went to hell in a hell basket leaving Victor to sit back down and send the judge a sheepish nod of guilt at the utter  _ chaos  _ he had just caused. 


	19. Chapter 19

The judge forced a half hour recess from the sheer amount of chaos that was unleashed in her courtroom. She knew there was no way to have everyone settle down after Nikiforov had done _that._

So the doors opened once more and the _real_ mahyem began. There were flashes everywhere, and the _shouting_. It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t helping Yuri’s sudden onset migraine. And as much as he wanted to get the hell out of the building altogether, he wasn’t about to step foot past those doors until the trial was over. He could deal with the long distance flashes and shouted questions. 

So he stayed seated, glaring daggers at Victor and Yuuri who stood sheepishly before him looking a lot more guilty than they had when they decided to drop the surprise which didn’t make him feel any better. 

In all honesty, he was fluctuating between feeling anger, shock, and guilt. The crappy triangle of feelings really cemented the want of just walking straight out and not looking back. But they were close to being done and he knew he had at least enough self control to hold everything at bay until they were at the rink, or the car, whichever he could hold till. And then he’d explode. But for now, he was glaring vengeance and absolute death.

“We didn’t want to stress you out before the trial.” Yuuri finally answered. 

“So you decided to stress me the _fuck_ out _during_ the trial? Does that sound logical to you?!” Yuri hissed a reply, keeping his voice down so as not to have it carry to the mob of reporters outside. 

“Yura, we talked about this, remember? We were ready to do this from day one.” Victor reached out to grip Yuri’s arm in reassurance, only to be slapped down by the angry blonde.

“Don’t _Yura_ me. You said they’d have nothing to say about this. You _said_ everything was going to be _fine_. No one in the ISU’s kicked either of you out yet so why the fuck would you just forfeit?!” 

“Because we’re not about to take any chances with this.” Victor responded, smile getting noticeably tighter. Yuri could tell the man was stressed. He and Katsuki both. They were doing a good job hiding it, but he could see it in the tense tightness of the normally lithe and graceful way they held their shoulders and their neck. The two were holding back a lot of stress, more so than Yuri had ever seen, even during competitions, and it grounded him. He could almost _feel_ how much they wanted this to get right, and that alone gave him a reason to take a breath and pull himself back together. Getting angry wouldn’t do anything at this point. 

“We’re going to win this, Yuri. But you know there are always the smallest possibilities that things won’t work out according to plan, no matter how plausible it seems. We just want to cover all the bases is all.” Yuuri added softly shooting Yuri a small smile. 

They lapsed into a moment of silence before Yuri sighed, letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

“If you’re out of Rostelcome, you’re out of the GP circuit.” he started neutrally, albeit a little gruffy.

The two blinked in surprise at the sudden change of attitude. 

“We’ll still be there at Rostelcome and the GP with Yakov.” Victor reassured him.

“Fine. I just need you to tell me one thing. Be _honest_.” Yuri stood, shoulders tensed as he half wished he could bolt right at that moment. But this was important. He needed to know. 

“Are you two retiring?” 

Victor’s brows nearly flew off his face at the speed they shot up, both skaters’ eyes widened considerably as they reeled from the sudden very serious question.

“No! _No!_ Nope. No, we most certainly are _not_ retiring, Yura. No worries about that. We’ll be back for Worlds.” Victor answered, regaining his composure. 

“Both of us.” Yuuri blurted, backing Victor’s statement up. 

“Good.” Yuri nodded sharply before dropping back onto his seat. 

“Because if _this_ was how you two were planning on posting your retirement I might have sent _that_ bastard to the hospital.” he his frown deeped as he whipped his head to the side in time to find his parents and their lawyer blatantly staring. 

“Take a fucking photo. It’ll last longer.” he seethed, causing everyone to hastily look away. 

“Just keep it together for a little longer. You can vent when we get back to the rink.” 

“And you’ll have _three_ people to help with your program!” Victor added excitedly. 

“Joy.” Yuri replied, deadpan as he realized what that meant.

“Yuuri! Love! What a wonderful turn of events!” 

“Hmm?”

*“Since we won’t be competing, we can go through with idea 3!” 

Yuri eyes narrowed as the raven haired skater burst into excited happy laughter as he made scary eye contact with Victor. 

“Which one though? I liked 3B the most.”

“I say we just do 3 A to E. We might as well. We’ll _never_ get another opportunity like this!” 

The blonde watched in bizarre conversation with worried bemusement. _What_ could they possibly mean…?

“We’ll have to update the list.” Yuuri added. 

“True, true. We can do that later tonight, after the rink.” Victor clapped his hands in glee. 

“I swear to god. If you two do something stupid I’m go-”

He didn’t get to finish as Yuuri and Victor scrambled to their seats as the Judge returned, making her way to the front before taking her own seat. 

“The court will resume.” and the doors closed to the sound of the gavel bangs. 

* * *

 

“Mr. Nikiforov. I’d like to ask you if there is anything _else_ you would like to inform us about? Before we finish up.” 

Victor smiled sheepishly, shaking his head. 

“No, Ma’am. I apologize for the mayhem I’ve caused.” there were chuckles around the room. 

“Very well. In that case, Mr. Plisetsky-” she brought up a hand 

“Again, not you. Mr. _Yuri_ Plisetsky.” 

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“I’d like to congratulate you on your partial emancipation.” he stilled, mouth suddenly going dry. 

“But now you’ve got some choices to make.” she continued. 

Victor shot a concerned glance to their lawyer who looked equally lost.

“Your partial emancipation allows you to independently choose between the two options you have.” 

Yuri nodded warily, catching his parents’ looks of shock in his periphery. 

“Option one, you may keep the majority of your emancipation without having to keep to the contract you were previously under with your parents. However-” His gut sank at those words. 

“-until you are officially eighteen, within the next couple of months, your parents are entitled to biweekly meetings unless there is an emergency and or health complications. Failure to attend said meetings will result in the loss of your status and restore your parents as your primary guardians.”

Yuri grimaced. 

“Or. Option two, you can sign the final adoption papers and the change of guardianship from your parents to Mr. Katsuki and Nikiforov can be finalized today. This would mean you would lose your emancipated status and fall completely under the guardianship of Mr. Katsuki and Nikiforov, including your co-signings and family declaration paperwork. In doing so you would no longer have to communicate with your parents unless you wished to. However, there was a request from your parents regarding the property damage that occurred before the trial.” 

Well _shit_ … he turned to quirk a questioning brow at Victor who grimaced. 

“This specifically was the only incident your father filed for out of ‘sheer unnecessary destruction of a stationary vehicle’” she read from the page in front of her. 

“He requests that ten hours of community service be done with Lyceum FTSH” Yuri choked. 

“The court has allowed this request, and ten hours will be done with Lyceum FTSH’s physical education department, as it would best Mr. Plisetsky’s particular abilities.” she looked up, leveling Yuri with a questioning stare. 

“Are there any questions?” 

“Yes, your honor.” his lawyer replied before nodding to Yuri. 

“With all due respect, as I said before, I have two weeks until Rostelcome and having to take an hour out to-”

“ _After_ the competition, Mr. Plisetsky. You’ll be volunteering hourly for 2 school weeks after Rostelcome.” the judge answered, leaving Yuri to nod in silent irritation at the fucking _pettiness_. 

“So which option will it be, Mr. Plisetsky?” 

There was a beat of silence as Yuri deliberated. There were only five months left which would mean he would have to see forty times which was forty more than he wanted to see them. But having to go back to _that_ place wasn’t looking too appealing either. But in the end it wasn’t even a thought out deliberation that had Yuri feeling absolutely certain about his choice. 

It was the glanced glimpse of his parents in his periphery  that cemented his decision to finally cut them out of his life altogether. And without any more hesitated deliberation, he turned just a little in his seat to that he could turn his head to face his parents, with one hand on the mic in front of him. 

“I’d like to choose option two” he answered with certainty, eyes drinking in the vindicating scene of his parents realizing what he had just done. 

Realizing that he had not only lit the match, he’d set the molotov cocktail on fire and sent it hurling at the bridge between them as he watched with relief and happiness. 

“Wait!” his mother screeched, nearly punched the lawyer in the face as he tried to calm her down, all drowned out by the solid _thunk thunk thunk_ of the gavel. 

“Mr. Katsuki, Mr. Nikiforov. Congratulations on the adoption. I better not see you back in court again.”

The room burst into applause.

Victor sent the judge a grateful nod before all but tackling Yuri to the ground as he pounced, wrapping his arms around the smiling blonde. 

Yuuri joined in, laughing as he took in Victor’s watery eyes matching his own. 

“You little _traitor!”_

Victor stiffened, turning with one arm still wrapped around the blonde who froze as well. 

“How _could_ you?! After everything we’ve done for you!” Victor didn’t get to move before Yuuri was in front of them blocking Mrs. Plisetsky’s path .

He didn’t even flinch as her hand came across his face, backhanding him with a resounding slap. 

“Don’t you _ever_ think you’re going to be able to replace me. I don’t care what everyone else thinks but _this”_ she gestured disgustedly at the group, particularly at Victor and himself. 

“-this is _wrong_ . I am _not_ going to stand by and watch you two drag our family through the mud.” she was screeching again, jabbing Yuuri’s chest with every word. 

“Drop it. Let’s go.” Mr. Plisetsky tugged on her arm, which she shook off angrily. 

“I will _not_ -” 

“Ma’am if I see or hear you harassing anyone in the Nikiforov-Katsuki household I _will_ hold you in contempt of the court.” the judge had returned back into the room, apparently having been alerted to the situation. 

Mrs. Plisetsky looked like she was going to argue. 

“Out. Now.” the judge emphasized, pointing to the door, waiting with her arms crossed until she and her husband walked out with their lawyer. 

“I recommend filing a restraining order.” she tossed at them before making her way out again leaving the three to stand in stunned silence at what had just happened. 

Yuuri took a deep breath before turning back to the two. 

“It’s fine. I figured it would happen eventually. But we should be celebrating!” he smiled. 

Victor chuckled, throwing an arm around Yuri’s shoulders, shaking him playfully. 

“Yura?” 

“What?” he was trying, and failing to hide the smile.

“I have a plan.” 

Yuri met Victor’s eyes understanding blooming as he saw the devious twinkle. 

“Oh?” 

“Oh yes. Nothing big…” 

“Right. Not so close to a competition.” 

Victor nodded sagely. 

“True, true.”

There was a beat of silence 

“Vitya. I don’t like that look in your eyes.” Yuuri warned as his own narrowed. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, love.” he answered innocently, mirroring Makka almost scarily well.

“So, Yura. How do you feel about talk shows?”

**“Oh _yes_.” Yuri smirked. 

Vengeance was going to be _sweet ..._     

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Possible one shot in the making  
> ** For those of you who've watched John Mulaney, I heard the 'yes' the way he said it when he was talking about when his father told them that the owner of the resort only had one arm  
> Also, this story actually does have a school-related plotline! Lyceum FTSH is going to come back!


	20. Chapter 20

 If there was anything, any one element in Victor and Yuri’s dysfunctional lives that stood the test of time in terms of solidity and evergreen ness, it was Yakov. 

Yakov Feltsman. One of Russia’s top coaches and ex competitive skaters. Ex husband to Principle ballerina Lilia but ongoing father figure to two particular skaters who almost dropped there and then on the frosty ground the moment they saw the man shove his way past the hoard of journalists to open the back seat door for Yuri before enveloping the noticeable taller teen in a protective position, flanked by Yuuri. Victor wasted no time in taking the front, holding himself out as to block as much of Yuri as he could, trusting that the other two would have his sides. 

They rushed into the complex like that, moving ahead on Yakov’s instructions so he could lock the door. 

It seemed that news had misspread, pressing everyone to rush over in hopes to get  _ some  _ sort of answer from the team. As far as Yakov could tell from Giacometti’s messages was that somewhere somehow along the grapevine someone had made the false claim that Victor and Yuuri were retiring completely and that they would be coaching Plisetsky between the two of them.  _ That  _ had branched out to create the false claim that all three skaters would be dropping Yakov as a coach while keeping the same home rink, which was  _ preposterous  _ but funny, in a way. 

So in all honesty, it wasn’t really too much of a surprise that there were so many people surrounding the rink. 

But at the moment, none of that mattered. What mattered was the fact that the crazy plan had worked and Yuri Plisetsky would  _ not  _ be retiring at 17. It brought up a warm feeling of happiness in his old heart, and contrary popular opinion, he shed a tear or two. Happy relieved tears of a crippling weight off his shoulders. He would  _ never  _ be able to forgive himself if the trial had fallen through. If he’d lost Yuri. Let him slip through… especially with the insane amount of stress the teen had been under. The frankly  _ terrifying _ touch and go moments that had jam packed the past week. 

But everything was okay now because Yuri was safe and sound and away from his toxic piece of shit parents. Safe under the loving and watchful care of Victor and Yuuri, who in the moments leading up to this moment, had shown true character in terms of parental care. He would never tell Victor or Yuuri, but it was the look in their eyes. The obvious love and loyalty. They were family and it was obvious. 

So with that hurdle happily jumped, all there was left was Rostelecom. 

———

”Is he out of his goddamn mind?!.” Victor’s attention snapped to where Yuri stood staring like he wasn’t entirely sure if he trusted what his eyes were seeing, but ready, nonetheless, to kill.

The music cut abruptly and the rest of the skaters came to a stop, eying the group with unhidden disdain. They’d all seen the leak. They were in the loop. Mika looked ready to pounce as well, but she was on the same wavelength as Victor, it seemed, as she skated toward the boards to collect her phone. 

She was live-streaming in no time. 

“Ah! Mr. Nikiforov. Mr. Plisetsky. I’m so glad we caught you at the right time!” Loitin stride over with a grin. Victor didn’t move an inch, face impassive, bracing himself for whatever was to come. Especially because Loitin wasn’t alone. He was flanked by a decently known sports journalist, and what looked to be all twenty some teenagers who Victor assumed made up Yuri’s graduating class at FTSH holding what looked to be posters of support and well wishes. One kid near the front even had a bouquet of blood red roses. 

The situation was spiraling into what was probably going to be very ugly and so  _ so  _ viral, but all Victor could do was watch the inevitable unfold. 

“And Mr. Katsuki as well! Hello!” Yuuri came to an abrupt stop beside Victor looking every bit ready to throw punches like he had when Yuri’s dad had made the mistake of stating that Yuri was ‘ _ just a confused bratty freeloading teenager who needed to grow up and get a real job’ _ oh yes. Like that but maybe just a pinch less. Victor was doubtful he’d ever see  _ that  _ sort of angry again, ever. 

But it wasn’t to say that Yuuri  _ wasn’t  _ angry.

He was. 

But this time he was willing to wait and see. Something Yuri just  _ knew  _ the man was going to fuck up the moment he opened his mouth again. 

“Apologies for barging in on practice like this so close to the-“ 

“Why are you here?” It was devoid of the simmering anger and irritation Victor felt in his gut, but it was blunt, leaving Loitin fumbling to answer. 

“On behalf of FTSH, we wanted to show Mr. Plisetsky that his school and classmates are rooting-“

“As of thirteen days ago, Yuri is no longer a student at FTSH. You yourself sat through the trial that  _ you  _ and  _ your  _ board of directors had direct connections to. It was  _ you  _ on behalf of FTSH as a whole who not only allowed the program to be leaked, but spread it and used Yuri for the school’s PR without the permission of Yuri or his guardians. And then you all went and sided with his toxic  _ abusive  _ parents and  _ still _ used the situation for a little extra reward for FTSH.” There was dead silence in the rink as Victor continued his frigid reply, eyes boring a hole through Loitin’s skull. And for all Loitin was worth, the man looked like he was about to piss himself, not to mention the varied looks of shock and immense amusement from the group of teens as their headmaster got  _ told _ . 

“Today is the last official day of practice before the competition and you are  _ yet again  _ wasting everyone’s valuable time, so you need to leave.” 

Yuuri nodded sharply. 

“Nobody likes a backstabbing kiss up, headmaster Loitin. I’m sure your students can tell you all about that back at school where they should be. You’re not only wasting our time, you’re wasting your students’ time as well. You know full and well that  _ you  _ dragged them over here. Stop with the fake flattery.” Yuuri hissed, gazing over the group of students who nodded as well, obviously glad that  _ someone  _ finally called him out. Despite not knowing him at all, the kids in his class had surprisingly taken Yuri’s side, spreading call out posts about their headmaster on social media after all of the shady things he’d done started circulating between the kids. They knew that the  _ last  _ thing Plisetsky would want would be to see the man again. Or the kids who’d leaked his program in the first place. They weren’t  _ stupid _ . 

But here they all were, awkwardly standing around watching their headmaster get what he deserved in a rink filled with world ranked athletes, one of whom had been sitting in their classes not too long ago like a normal kid. But he wasn’t normal. 

He was kickass and he looked like he was a few seconds away from ripping the man to shreds himself with his own skates. 

“Well that’s just  _ incredibly  _ rude. I-“ 

“Rutsminov!” The journalist jumped in surprise as a new voice boomed from behind him. 

“Feltsman! I can exp-“

“I told you before. I will  _ not  _ tell you again.”

“Please! This is all just a big misunderstanding! It wasn’t my idea-“ 

“Yes, hello? This is Coach Yakov Feltsman speaking from the sports complex rink.”

The journalist eyes widened, nearly bugging as Yakov spoke into the phone keeping a terrifying glare on him. 

“We’ve go a red flagged journalist who broke in to the rink-“

“I didn’t break in! I swear it!” Yuuri’s hand shot out to grab Rutsminov by the arm, tugging him forcefully back before he could jump on Yakov and grab the phone. 

“Rutsminov. Yes. He has been barred from entering the complex and has several standing restraining orders against him from Nikiforov. Yes. As a coach I want him out of the rink  _ now _ . Away from the younger skaters as well.” Yakov nodded in satisfaction at the response on the other hand. 

“Thank you.” 

He turned to the journalist who was too busy pawing at Yuuri’s iron grip to notice Yakov take a threatening step closer. 

“And  _ you _ .” He turned to Loitin with a look of disgust. 

“You take those poor kids back to school  _ now _ . This is an abuse of power. It is a school day! You shouldn’t even be here in the first place!”

“Exactly.” Victor glared. 

“The police will be here any minute now so you can go peacefully now or get dragged out in handcuffs.” Yakov addressed Loitin who paled dramatically. 

“As for you” He turned to Rutsminov. 

“You’re leaving in a police car.” The man’s eyes widened in shock and fear as he struggled harder  to get out of Yuuri’s grip as the heavy camera swung dangerously around in his hands. 

Loitin jumped into the fray without a second thought, trying to pull Yuuri away as Victor and Yakov worked to separate everyone. Yuri stood close by, at a loss for what to do as he stared at the fight unfolding before him. 

“Let go!” 

And with one last burst of energy, he managed to swing Yuuri’s grip off altogether, arms and camera aloft as he pivoted halfway to regain his balance, which he lost completely the moment he felt the camera hit something  _ hard _ . And then he hit the floor for less than a second before sprinting to the door only to fall back on the floor as three uniformed officers walked in and hauled him to his feet before cuffing him. 

But  _ that  _ was completely missed by Yakov, Victor, and Yuuri along with a handful of students who had witnessed the heart stopping series of  _ extremely  _ unfortunate events. 

“YURA!” 

“YURI! Oh my  _ god!  _ Someone call an ambulance!” Yuuri couldn't move fast enough to catch the blonde as he took a swan dive to the ice, dropping unconscious next to Yuuri and the boards. 

One of the officers rushed over, already dialing emergency for an ambulance, stopping short in shock as he saw what was behind the boards.

Yuri, lay unconscious on his back left leg bent at a worrying angle while his right leg sat straight out. His arms were splayed beside him, but that wasn’t the issue. The issue was the dark gash that ran from the edge of his right brow to his temple. It was slowly but steadily leaking out blood that was rolling down his pale face onto the ice. 

“Is he breathing?!” Yakov demanded,

Yuuri nodded, removing his fingers from the blonde’s neck. 

“The camera caught him really hard. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s concussed” 

Yakov’s attention whipped back to Loitin and Rutsminov who looked more than a little shocked. 

“Everyone who isn’t a skater needs to get out! Now!” He bellowed, licking everyone back into motion as the students filed out first, followed by Loitin and the officers who were dragging Rutsminov along. 

“I’ll stay until the ambulance arrives. And then we can go fill out a complaint, if that is okay with you Coach Feltsman.”

Yakov didn’t get to answer as a groan sounded from the ice. 

“Fucking  _ hell _ …” It was quiet and slurred but Yuri was awake, eyes squeezed shut with his hands covering his face against the bright lights. 

“Yura. Can you hear me?” Yakov called from above him. 

“Hmm?” 

There was silence before the blonde seized, turning impossibly paler as the full weight of his bent leg and pounding headache finally hit him all at once. And just as fast it had come, it was gone. As Yuri slumped back into the realm of unconsciousness cushioned by a small but growing pool of blood on ice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 day till travel and 2 days to the actual competition and Yuri Plisetsky May or may not have a concussion 🤷🏻♀️  
> .  
> .  
> Also! There WILL be a one shot about Rutsminov!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A N G S T  
> But also setting up for an emotional/family fluff(?)/podium fam focused couple of chapters

“They shouldn’t have been able to get inside in the first place!” 

Victor winced as Yakov’s voice climbed, growing more and more hostile as the rink’s security officer mumbled out half assed explanations as to how so many people got through during  _ private  _ practice. He was livid, and ‘they broke in through the back door’ just  _ wasn’t  _ going to cut it. 

“And  _ you _ .” He swung around with lightning speed to point an accusing finger at the flustered man who sat next to the officer. They were both starting to curl into themselves, hoping against all hope that the man sitting in front of them would be able to keep his cool without murdering anyone. Which he looked like he was truly considering, from the look in his eyes. 

“Is this funny to you? This, meddling in others' businesses?” 

“P-pardon?”

“I  _ said _ , is. This. A. Joke. To. You? Pull yourself together for gods sake and  _ listen.”  _ Yakov growled. 

“Or is it just that you don’t like your job? Did running a school get boring for you? Or do you just like messing things up?” 

“I’m sorry, but I am  _ perfectly  _ happy with my job and I-“

“Then  _ why  _ do you  _ insist  _ on taking time out of your job to do things like  _ this _ ?”

“I-“

“You had  _ one  _ job. Even when Yuri was a part of your school. Your job is to make sure your students are under control and learning what they should. It has  _ nothing  _ to do with this ice rink and anyone who skates here.”

“Coach Feltsman, I just  _ don’t  _ understand what you are getting at… I’m sorry, but I need to at least know what I’ve allegedly done to be on the same page as everyone here…”

Victor wasted no time in striding over before gingerly handing his phone over for the man to see. 

The sound was quiet at first albeit a little shaky, showing where the group had been standing not even an hour ago. A mop of platinum hair appeared from behind the boards, bringing Yuri carefully up from the ice to brace against the boards. They took small steps towards the open door where Victor stepped out first, paying no mind to his guards. 

“Don’t look. Just keep moving.” It was quiet but audible as the blonde nodded dazedly, moving slowly out of the rink. There was a moment of absolute silence as Yuri stood frozen, both hands gripping the boards as he held his injured leg off the ground. And then the tremors began, invisible to the camera, but it had been there. 

And before Victor could react, Yuri let out a blood curdling scream, hunched over with his hands balled into fists. Then came the flood of angry tears that had him sliding down against the boards down to the floor where he sat, arms tight around the good leg that was bent against his chest while the other sat splayed out throbbing with pain. 

His head was bowed, dripping with tears down his face. 

“Not this. Anything but this.  _ Please _ .” It was stammered out as he started to hyperventilate. 

“Yura.  _ Yura _ ” Yakov rushed next to Victor who had dropped to a crouch to make eye contact. 

“Yurochka, you need to go with the medics now. You’re injured and-“

“I-I’ll do anything. I-Yakov’s  _ please.  _ I can’t- I can’t retire already. I need to skate. I d-don’t have anything else.” He tapered into silence as His teeth started to chatter as the panic set in and the tears continued to roll down his face. 

That was were the video ended. 

“That’s two leaks now.” Victor hissed, narrowing his eyes. 

“A student of yours hid out behind the benches and filmed the whole thing and then uploaded on social media.” Yakov explained gruffly. 

“It’s sick. A  _ huge  _ invasion of privacy, let alone so sadistic. _ That _ -“ Victor nodded to his phone. 

“-is singularly the  _ most  _ horrifyingly heartbreaking thing that could happen to a skater. The single worst scenario we all pray won’t happen to us in the already short time we have.” 

He snatched the phone back. 

“And  _ your  _ student just decided to casually post it.”

Loitin couldn’t say a word, glued to his seat trying his best to avoid all eye contact. 

“That’s raw emotion. The fear. the anger. The pain. All of that is real. Yuri is facing the  _ real  _ possibility of having to retire at seventeen and now everyone knows. He doesn’t get to make plans and figure out where he’s going to go from here or what he’s going to make public known.” 

Yakov sucked in a sharp breath at the gravity of Victor’s words. 

“ _ Christ _ . We’ll have to start the withdraw papers today. You and Katsuki are going to have to put out a statement soon as well.” Yakov rubbed at his temples in an obvious bid to ease the massive headache to come. 

“As for you-“ He turned abruptly to the guard. 

“You’re on thin ice. You hear me?!” The man nodded vigorously. 

“You can go. We’re on a complex lock down so they’ll need some extra hands down there.”

The man all but ran out of the room, nearly colliding with the door in his haste to leave. “

“And as for you and Lyceum FTSH, we  _ will  _ be pressing charges, so prepare yourself, Loitin. And get the  _ fuck  _ out of my office.” 

There was a solid second of tense silence before Loitin collected himself enough to scramble out, shutting the door quietly behind him leaving the two to dwell in icy silence. 

“How bad is it?” Victor asked tentatively, leaning on the back of one of the chairs unable to sit still. He’d saw the message had received seconds into the meeting. How Yakov’s brows had furrowed, almost in confusion, before he put the phone away to tear into the trifling headmaster. 

“He didn’t break anything.” 

“But…?” 

“He sprained his ankle and partially tore his ACL.”

Victor recoiled at the thought. 

“He’ll be out for at least six months.” 

“Does  _ he  _ know that?”

Yakov couldn’t meet Victor’s worried gaze, scrubbing his face with weary hands. He took a deep breath before continuing. 

“No. He doesn’t.”

“Will they tell him…? Should  _ I  _ tell him…?” He blanched. 

“They’ll tell him when he wakes up.” 

Victor’s brows nearly hit his hairline at the worryingly loaded statement. 

“What?” 

“They couldn’t get him to calm down so they had to give him something. He’s not awake at the moment.” 

“They  _ tranqed  _ him?!” 

“He punched one of the medics. But that’s not the most worrying.” 

“What else?” 

“The doctor noted signs of exhaustion. Probably from sleep deprivation. A  _ lot  _ of weight loss, probably tied to the exhaustion. And  _ high  _ levels of stress going by his vitals. His blood pressure was notably high.” 

“Answers, Yakov.  _ Answers.  _ What does that mean?!” 

“It means-” Yakov breathed out slowly. 

“-that we’re in for a rough couple of months, Vitya. But we  _ will  _ get through it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any guesses as to what's gonna happen to Yuri?   
> I can tell you, it's gonna be rough man...


	22. Chapter 22

The two nearly collided into each other in their mad scramble down the hall to Yuri’s darkened room to check the abrupt clattering. Something was going to go spectacularly wrong, no doubt. 

“Yura?!” 

“What’s wro-”

They froze in the doorway, rooted to the spot as their eyes swept across the carnage of the previously immaculate room. 

Water covered the tile from the pitcher that lay shattered near the window. They spied the clipboard holding Yuri’s  medical chart laying face down dangerously close to the puddle. There were blankets and pillows, some from the hospital and some from their home bunched up on the floor around the bed. The heart monitor was reading a  terrifying steady flat, and there Yuuri stood in the midst of all that chaos, barefooted in said puddle leaning heavily against the window for support as he worked to tear out the IV stuck in the crook of his arm. 

“Yura…” he froze at the softness, already forgetting about the blood that was starting to leak down his arm. 

Yuuri nudged Victor to get his attention before he rushed out of the room to the nurses station. 

“When did you wake up?” 

He didn’t answer, choosing to meet Victor’s worried gaze head on. Eyes glazed from whatever it was they had been giving him for the pain.   

“You should get back in bed. You need mor-”

Victor couldn’t help the flinch as the blonde lashed out, throwing the IV rack as hard as he could, knocking it over before him. 

“I don’t need _rest_ . I need to _practice._ ”

“Yura…” 

he narrowed his eyes at the suspiciously apologetic voice. 

“I still have time before Rostelcome. I’ll just take out the quads and replace them with triples and ground the flying spins and-“ 

He stopped abruptly when he started to notice Victor’s expression. 

“What?! You’re looking at me like I’m dying.”

“Have the doctors already visited or…?”

“I just woke up.”

Victor sucked in a deep breath at that. So he _didn’t_ know. But he’d have to know eventually. 

“Do you remember what happened?” 

“I fell…?” 

“Do you remember why?” 

“I probably fucked up on a quad Lutz or something.”

Victor stared in silence for a long moment, expression unreadable, and it was starting to freak Yuri out. 

“You fell really badly.”

“ _Obviously_.” Yuri sniped, gesturing around.

“You probably can’t feel it right now because of what they gave you-” Victor’s gaze returned slowly over to the knocked over IV rack that was steadily spilling fluids and painkillers onto the floor. 

“It’s a miracle you don’t have as much of a concussion as we thought you would.” 

“So I fell. So what? It happens-”

“Put your left foot down.”

“What?” Yuri recoiled, eyes narrowing at the strange order. 

“Your left foot-” Victor nodded to the foot that was lifted as Yuri continued to lean heavily against the window. 

“-put it down. On the ground.” 

Yuri complied slowly, staring the man down the entire time before jolting back in pain, almost falling as he made contact with the floor. 

“That’s right. It wasn’t just a simple fall, Yura.”

“What…the fuck?”

“A full ankle sprain with a partial tear in your ACL. But it’s not _too_ bad. You’ll be able to start practicing around June, if you _behave.”_

“I don’t remember any of this…?”

“There was a blunt force hit to your head” he tapped his own right temple, hence the stitches.” 

Yuri patted around, slowly this time, wincing as he found the spot under the bandages. 

“Mr. Plisetsky, you shouldn’t be up right now!” came the booming voice of a zealous nurse who was leading a following group of nurses who looked a little _too_ wary for Yuri’s comfort.

“You punched a medic.” Victor supplied dryly, following Yuri’s line of sight. 

Yuuri trotted in not too long after, gesturing wildly, looking a little pale.

“ _What?”_ Victor gestured back, trying to communicate through the loudness of the nurses at work. 

Yuuri just looked _agitated,_ turning paler by the second. Which was when Victor finally pulled himself through the packed group hovering around Yuri’s bed to the door, finally face to face with Yuuri. 

“What was that?” 

“I said-” 

“Nikiforov. I’m here to see my son.” 

And just like that, it was _officially_ the worst day _ever_.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's going to be a F I G H T


	23. Chapter 23

“No.”

“Excuse me?!”

“No.  _ Niet _ . You  _ will not  _ be stepping foot into that room, and that’s  _ final _ .”

The frigid glare off between the two Russians had Yuuri slipping past to peek his head in, catching Yuri’s irate but concerned look as the blonde wordlessly demanded answers while having his IV reinserted. 

Yuuri glanced behind him for a quick second before stepping fully back into the room, shutting the door quietly behind him, giving the nurses their space as the finished up reattaching Plisetsky to the heart monitor that  _ wasn’t  _ screeching a flatline anymore, thank  _ god.  _

He remained rooted in his spot near the door, not moving even when the silence outside the hall turned to one sided shouting followed by a ringing  _ slap _ followed by a string of curses that had even  _ Yuri _ cocking a brow. 

But all the while, be it good or bad, neither of them had heard Victor’s voice rise in volume before  _ or  _ after the slap. And they didn’t hear him when the nurses left, shutting the door behind them with a solid click. 

What they  _ did  _ hear was a warning given by the head nurse. Something about calling security. 

_ That  _ hadn’t really gone too well either, but well enough, it seemed, because Victor had quietly slipped in no more than ten minutes later looking vaguely grim but with a glint of satisfaction in his tired eyes. 

“That was my mom.” It wasn’t a question. 

“It was.” Victor replied neutrally with a nod, nudging Yuuri over to the small sofa near the window, taking a seat himself before letting out an  _ exhausted  _ sigh. He scrubbed his hands down his face, rubbing at his tired eyes before meeting Yuri’s stormy gaze. 

“She wanted to see you.” 

“I don’t want to see her.” He replied evenly. 

“I told her as much but… anyway, she's not a problem anymore. You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to, Yura. Don’t ever feel like you have to.”

“I’m-“ he paused abruptly, taking in a deep breath as a wave of dizziness punched him head on, sending his gut reeling nauseously. 

“I’m  _ well  _ aware.”

He looked away sharply from Victor’s knowing, fractionally narrowed eyes. The man may have his clueless love addled moments but there was no doubting that he was sharp. Sometimes  _ annoyingly  _ so. 

“And suddenly June is starting to look more like late July early  _ August. _ ” It was said with a flat smile that had Yuri’s nausea clearing from the sheer  _ audacity  _ of hearing those words come out of Victor Fucking-zero sense of self preservation-Nikiforov. He could punch the almost  _ taunting  _ smile. If the walls would stop spinning for a goddamn second. 

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Fully noted. But you should know that Yuuri’s doing a stunning job of that already,  _ Yura. _ ”  

He caught the pillow that flew at his face with  _ irritating  _ ease. 

“Surprisingly good throw from someone who looks like they’re going to vomit any second now.” 

Yuri opened his mouth to retort but got cut off as Victor’s attention was pulled suddenly away, at the sound of a familiar twinkling of sounds. 

He pulled he phone from his pocket with ease, checking the caller ID before answering. 

“Yakov?” The tight smile was back. 

“Don’t you  _ Yakov _ me.” He sounded most  _ displeased.  _

“Yuri woke up. His memory is a little shaky but he’s-“

“From the events of the past few days shouldn’t you know to watch yourself by now!?” The man exploded, cutting Victor off  _ completely _ . 

“What…?” Victor uttered, sounding genuinely confused. 

“Social media, Vitya! Goddamn social media!” 

He pulled the phone away at the sudden shouting. 

“Something’s been  _ leaked  _ again, hasn’t it…” Yuuri supplied with a groan, sinking down into the sofa. 

“Damn right!”

“What-what’s been leaked?” Yuuri asked, ever the realist, taking the phone from Victor’s hand. 

“The conversation in the hall. The wide open hall in the public hospital!” 

“Oh…” Victor shrank into his seat. 

Yakov sighed, grumbling quietly before continuing. 

“You had every right to say what you said, Vitya. I’m not talking about that. But you’ve got to realize that this is a big scandal. Really  _ really  _ big. And you all are  _ known _ . You’ve been on the national team for how long now? And Plisetsky’s been known through juniors as well. Katsuki, you’re more than known in your home country, and you’re well known here as well. So there are so many eyes.  All of them on you three with the whole adoption. Even more so because I’ve submitted the withdrawl papers more than a few hours ago. Everyone is curious. This is the first major competition than all three of you are sitting out, the one in  _ Russia  _ none the less. So you have to be  _ careful _ .”

Yuuri nodded.

“We understand.” He turned to Victor, placing a reassuring hand on his knee while holding the phone with the other. 

“Should we put out a statement?” Victor leaned toward the phone. 

“About not taking visitors. She sounded like she was going to come back.”

“I’ll put one through the rink and you two can put one out as well.”

There was a pause on Yakov’s end. 

“But more importantly, Yura, I know you’re listening.” 

Yuri froze momentarily, staring at the phone in faint shock. 

“You should  _ not  _ be awake right now. And I swear, if you’re anything like Victor when he was your age and so much as step one foot off your bed I won’t hesitate on barring you from the rink until  _ August _ . You hear me?! AUGUST!”

“See” Victor mouthed, sticking his tongue out for good measure. 

“For fu-“

“Alright Yakov. I’ll call you back soon!” Victor rushed lightly before hanging up on the still sputtering coach. 

“I’ll move out. I swear to god.”

“Yura! You’re breaking your father’s heart!” 

“I’m not joking. I’ll move out and find a new rink-“

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to do  _ that _ .” He should have noticed Victor’s sly little smile. 

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because, you’ll be moving out officially an  _ adult. “ _

Yuri just narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what  _ that  _ shifty sentence meant. 

“And you know, as good parents we have to prepare you for the real world before letting you fly the nest.”

Yuuri couldn’t help the humorous smile off his face when he caught Victor’s eyes and cottoned on to what the man was getting at. 

“Get to the point!”

“Oh,  _ Yuri _ . Moving out early is only going to bring the day we give you  _ the talk _ , closer.”

There was a moment of silence as Turi sat  _ stunned _ , face rushing across a mirade of emotions before settling on strong disgust. 

“Ew. Oh  _ hell _ no. That is not going to fucking happen. No fucking way!”

Victor wagged his brows at the distressed teen. 

Yuuri and I are going to get some coffee and write out the statement, and if you’re not asleep when we get back, we’ll just have to get a head start on that y’all tonight.”

Yuuri couldn’t even keep his face straight for a moment to give Yuri a solemn nod, dissolving in giggles halfway through. 

Yuri didn’t hesitate to punch the ‘call nurse ‘ button, looking beyond disgusted at the two grown men. 

“Just get get the fuck out.” He hissed before turning to the nurse who rushed in. 

“I need a shot of your strongest tranq.” She didn’t respond, staring at Yuri in concern. 

“I’m not joking. Just put me in a coma or something. “

Victor shrugged, grinning. 

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“Get _ out!” _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh that “conversation” in the hall is gonna come back full force. Trust and BELIEVE


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sad pre-competition day filler

Eleven AM rolled around far faster than any of them expected, but it brought about a strangely dream like state to the small room.  
Sunlight fluttered in through the wispy curtains bringing in some much needed warmth to offset the cold aura that had descended no more than half an hour ago when Yuri finally awoke from his drug induced sleep, sitting up with hisses of pain, feeling like shit as his foggy mind finally picked up the throbbing pain that was running down his entire left leg only to amplify it by a hundred, or so it seemed.  
And then the pounding behind his eyes, directly followed by the cotton mouth and dry throat.  
What he didn’t notice was the offensively bright neon green straw that was hovering mere centimeters to his side.  
“Yuri..?”  
He flinched at the sudden voice that was sudden very close.  
“Jesus-” the rest didn’t get to leave his mouth as his cranky indignation collided with a new wave of pain from where his ankle and knee were raised atop a pillow under the crisp stark white hospital sheets.  
He only barely caught the sharp bark of pain before it tore its way out of his mouth, taking a moment to compose himself before facing back to where Victor stood holding what looked to be a cup of water.  
An ice cold cup of water to be precise.  
His brain screamed grab, but his everything else screamed stop fucking moving!  
“Don’t drink it all at once. Slowly, Yura. It’s what the nurse told me to tell you.” Victor said handing the cup over to Yuri who very nearly dropped the whole as his still groggy muscles didn’t get the memo.  
He took it in both hands with a nod of thanks, tossing the straw out without missing a beat before taking a small sip.  
The next was bigger, waking him up from the inside as it wiped away the desert that had formed in his mouth.  
Yuri saw it from his peripheral halfway through the cup.  
It was the way that the man was leaning noticeably heavy against the side table, nowhere near the usual graceful and limber posture the man kept to, even off ice.  
And then there was the way he was dressed, uncharacteristic baggy and wrinkled grey sweatpants with a black long sleeved thermal. He had the thick indigo dyed wool kimono sweater wrapped tightly around himself with one hand as he used the other to type something out on his phone.  
Be it the lighting or even his own not so sober eyes, could have sworn Victor’s face looked so weirdly pinched. And the dark circles.  
He’d known the man for a good 9 or so years but seeing the normally perfect and composed man looking so vulnerable and overtly tired bubbled up the strangest feeling of discrepancy in his mind. Like his brain was trying to figure out whether or not to doubt his very eyes.  
This wasn’t just any kind of tired. An entire leap away from post grueling practice tired.  
This was more along the lines of internal and external exhaustion catching up to the man all at once.  
What had Chulanont said at *last season’s Lombardia Trophy? Something like “In this life, Plisetsky, it’s yeet or be yeeted.”  
That was what Victor looked like. Like the asshole of a god who was responsible for all of the chaos of the past few weeks had decided he wasn’t done, personally yeeting Victor into the burning dumpster fire of new problems that had probably popped up when he was knocked out.  
So Yuri wasn’t even remotely gazed at his momentary glance down to find Victor in a pair of poodle print fuzzy socks and a pair of Nike sliders he’d received for a photoshoot months ago that never found a use until now.  
Now because he wasn’t home so he needed to wear shoes, but he wasn’t training so he wasn’t in tennis shoes either. And he certainly wasn’t about to walk around the hospital in his shiny black dress shoes.  
So the sandals were naturally the most logical answer.  
But it just looked so… so casual but so so bizarre on the normally fashion coordinated man.  
“You know you don’t have to keep standing. There’s a seat right there.” He nodded to the sofa that looked like it was covered in one of those public bus seat patterns.  
“Huh?” Victor replied just a moment late, looking up from his phone in genuine confusion. He probably hadn’t heard a word...  
“I said-“ Yuri repeated, sarcastic reply dying on his lips as the dark bags under Victor’s eyes became so much more noticeable face to face.  
“You should sit instead of just standing there.”  
Victor shrugged, pushing off of the table he’d been leaning on.  
“The delivery guy should be here soon anyway.” He waved away the offer.  
“And just a heads up, Yuu-“  
There were three soft knocks on the door before it swung open gently.  
“Oh good, you’re awake. One of the nurses said she’s going to be here soon to change out your IV bags and another shot of painkillers for your leg.” He shut the door quietly behind him.  
“The delivery’s here. I’ll be right back.” Victor pocketed his phone, moving towards the door. He wrapped Yuuri in a small hug, planting a gentle kiss on the top of the man’s head before slipping out.  
“Yakov said to rest up. And they’ve made it safely to the hotel.”  
Yuuri smiled, taking off his thick coat.  
“You’re in a suit.”  
“Oh, the JFSA sent someone over for a press junket.” He answered, plopping himself down on the sofa before wincing.  
“God. Last night must have been fun.” Yuuri muttered absentmindedly.  
“Did you stay here overnight…?”  
Yuri felt his gut clench.  
“No, I went home to let Makka out and give her dinner. That and Victor and Phichit peer pressured me to get some sleep before the junket so I didn’t look as dead.” He chuckled softly, oblivious to Yuri’s growing discomfort as he started piecing things together.  
“Victor stayed over night, didn’t he…?”  
“He said he felt a little worried that your parents might come back so he said he wanted to stay.”  
Yuuri’s smile faltered as Yuri’s gaze became glued to the sofa.  
“That and he said he’d be more productive here than back at home.”  
“You slept on the sofa?”  
It wasn’t necessarily accusing, but I was just sharp enough to throw Victor for a loop when he walked in with takeout bags in tow.  
“What?” He put the bags down on the sofa.  
“Why would you sleep on the sofa of all places? Why didn’t you just go home?”  
Victor shrugged.  
“It wasn’t that bad. And I wasn’t that tired to begin with.” He shot Yuri a smile to try and the line of conversation they were having.  
Victor didn’t like where it was going.  
“You look exhausted. You and Katsuki both. I sprained my ankle. I didn’t go blind.”  
“We Just has a lot of things to do up until today, but we’re mostly free now.” Victor handed Yuri a container and a fork.  
“Also, speaking from experience, hospital food is terrible so I have no intention of making you live through that.” He added with a chuckle.  
Yuri stared a moment longer before deciding to drop it.  
He was too tired for any of that…  
“But-uh, Yura.”  
“Hmm?” Yuri uncapped his container.  
“There is something we have to talk about. It’s nothing bad. Just...but do you want to know now or after we eat?”  
Yuri tensed for a moment, staring Victor to try and see if he could garner any clues as to what that sudden statement meant.  
“Now.”  
“You have to promise me you’ll eat though, once I tell you.”  
“I haven’t been awake long enough for this cloak and dagger shit. Just spit it out.” He felt chills run down his spine as his brain cranked out possible but altogether terrible answers.  
“You’re probably going to go on social media today…”  
Yuri waited for Victor to continue, fork still held in his hand.  
“You know J.J.”  
“Unfortunately.”  
“Do you know Yulia Schevka?  
Yuri shook his head.  
“Dimitri Karkof? Yuri Mishnif?”  
“Karkof sounds familiar.”  
“They’re all in the Junior Circuit, but Karkof is moving up to seniors next season. He’s around your age.”  
“Oh. We were in juniors at the same time.”  
Victor nodded.  
“Well they, in addition to Leroy and Altin-“  
Yuri’s brain perked up at the mention of the khazak.  
“They were offered pretty sizeable sponsorships last night.”  
“Good for them? And…?”  
“The same sponsor who offered said sponsorships offered a big donation to Lyceum.”  
Yuri furrowed his brows.  
To hell with the minor concussion, he just couldn't connect the glaringly obvious dots and that in and of itself was starting to give him a headache.  
"I don't- just tell me." He huffed, clutching the fork tighter in his hand.  
"Your father's company sent out their new sponsorship list and J.J, Altin, and those three juniors are on that list. That's in addition to the donation they gave to Lyceum."  
There was a beat of silence as Yuri sat absolutely stunned at the level of utter pettiness… and to his horror, he felt the familiar sting at the waterline of his eyes.  
He was absolutely not going to cry.  
Not over this shit.  
It wasn't worth it. It was over. They weren't even his parents anymore. Just two, really really immature people. He wasn't going to let them drag him down again.  
But damn.  
Who would have thought that something so small would actually fucking hurt so much?  
It was stupid and irrational and he hated just how much it bothered him.  
He'd for sure thought that he had no absolutely no more faith in his parents. Even more so a negative amount of faith. So by logic, he should have felt any sort of betrayal or disappointment, but he did.  
The fact that they had chosen those specific individuals as well… Dimitri had always been called Yuri's doppelganger. Same height. Same build. Same angular face. Roughly close to Yuri in flexibility. The only difference was that Dimitri had black hair.  
Yuri knew the kid was going to follow him to seniors eventually, but he'd completely forgotten once he was on the senior circuit. And then there was Yuri and Yulia.  
Were they honestly trying to make it any more obvious? They'd support a Yuri, but he wouldn't be the one.  
J.J. The one who every single commentator/reporter/journalist pit him against. His sworn enemy to be disgustingly cliche.  
And then there was Otabek. Beka. The one who stayed up all talking to Yuri even before the whole adoption fiasco. The one who looked him in the eyes one night in a coffee shop during one of the smaller competitions, and told Yuri that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with the blonde and then proceeded to hand Yuri the necklace off his own neck, his grandfather's blessing before he passed.  
The very Otabek Altin that littered Yuri's own Instagram.  
There was no way they had chosen him at random, and in a way, that was the hardest blow.  
He wiped the offending wetness from his eyes.  
"Oh." He croaked.  
He saw Victor mouth something to Yuuri before biting on his lower lip in obvious discomfort.  
"I'm so sorry, Yura. It's just so petty…"  
Victor took a deep breath.  
"So altogether the five sponsorships and donations given are all under your father's PR department in a charity fund called… Um-" he coughed uncomfortably, trying to stall the inevitable.  
"The fund is called the-uh Yuri Plisetsy Memorial fund."  
It was all it took to shatter what was left of the already feeble dam withholding the tsunami of emotions.  
He wiped angrily at the hot years that had started to overflow all the while trying to pull himself together because he fucking wasn't going to cry over those two awful-  
But it just hurt so much. So much.  
They weren't entirely wrong though. Yuri Plisetsky was dead.  
The new Yuri, Yuri Katsuki-Nikiforov on the other hand was just starting to bloom anew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *possible one shot


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying something new. Tell me what you think!

 

 It was trending. 

 _He_ was trending. 

#TeamYuri absolutely _littered_ his feed, throwing him for a dizzying loop.

And then he scrolled some more and he was floored, in the worst possible way. Like he’d been roundhouse kicked in the gut.. 

 

 

 

 

There were _hundreds._

This shit was absolutely _not_ going to fly.

He wouldn’t allow it.

 

He fired off another in quick succession, coming to a terrifying realization about the situation at hand. 

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/184596540@N08/48757499608/in/dateposted-public/)

 

They were petty but they wouldn’t be _that_ petty, would they…? 

He felt a surge of anger. 

There he was, sitting in a cramped hospital room on the day before the competition he’d been training for for _weeks_ , threatening his parents over _Twitter_ of all places because he was positive that they would do something cruel, _again_. 

But it wouldn’t be him this time, and that was so much worse. 

The kids weren’t even sixteen yet for godsakes! The fact that _he_ was the one who had to go to such lengths was honestly _mind boggling_. 

 But the more he scrolled the more he found himself calmed as waves of support rolled in from last night. Even before he’d been informed of his father’s decisions. 

Chulanont’s tweet had made him crack a smile, just imagining the sass of the Thai skater. But then again, he wasn’t wrong. 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/184596540@N08/48757499573/in/dateposted-public/)

And then he was floored _again_ , but for completely different reasons. 

  [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/184596540@N08/48757499593/in/dateposted-public/) 

 _Wow_. 

Who knew Katsuki was actually right about JJ all along? Not that he’d ever publicly admit it. But he had to admit that it was very mature. Very sportsman minded, and in all honesty, he appreciated the gesture a lot more than he thought.

But even _that_ little surprise was nothing compared to the feeling of absolute _warmth_ he felt when he saw the tweet timestamped at 11:13 PM the night the sponsorships had been officialized. 

There hadn’t even been time for consideration before Altin had posted his answer, most likely fuming if the uncharacteristic cursing was anything to go by. 

_Christ_.

Otabek-ride or fucking die-Altin. 

He was beyond blessed. He’d already known, but it just added extra support. 

Yuri startled at the sudden knock at the door. 

“I come bearing good news.” Victor didn’t wait for a reply, sandals plick-plucking as he made his way over with a file held triumphantly in his hands. 

“Do tell…” Yuri lowered his phone an inch, cocking his head to the side. 

“You’ve responded really well with the fluids and rest, and since you’re so young the doctors said that they have no doubt your ankle and knee is going to heal without any complications.” he flipped the file open. 

“ _So_ , they’ve cleared you for discharge around tomorrow morning.” 

“Wait. Seriously?!” 

“All that’s left to do is take on last baseline test for your concussion and get a schedule set for PT and you should be good to go!”

“Thank _god_. I hate hospitals.” 

“Don’t we all?” 

Yuri rolled his eyes, smile betraying the faux irritation.

“Also, I have an idea. Something I want to do.”

“Oh?” 

“Mhm. They’ll never see it coming.” 

“They?” 

“Plisetsky Logistics.”

Victor quirked a brow in interest.

“I want to start a fund.”

“For yourself? Or…?” 

“You’ll see..” 

Victor blinked in surprise, taken aback by the sudden idea.

“There’s a whole day left before the competition. I’m sure the word would spread fast..”

Yuri put his phone completely to the side, looking at Victor in earnest. 

“I have 5 new season posters that they sent me before the final. I’ll auction those. And I can get rid of all those competition shirts and hoodies I don’t wear anymore.”

“You know, that might actually work out really well..”Victor hummed in consideration.

“As for the skaters, I’ll do something like a favor for a donation type thing. _Hell,_ I’ll start with what’s left of last season’s earnings.”

“Alright. Yes. Let’s do this! Send me the details and I’ll spread it on my social media as well. Yuuri too. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to help.” 

 “Good. give me like an hour. I’ll dm you.” 

Karma was going to be a _bitch_.

 

* * *

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/184596540@N08/48758013607/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any guesses as to what Yuri's endgame is???


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fluffy filler that's going to actually be useful to the next few chapters. How ~shocking~

Victor had made good on his promise and spread the word on all of his social media outlets by three in the afternoon, and then it was just a matter of waiting. 

Waiting and plotting, and bulk ordering a few extra hundred shirts through one of his current sponsorship routes at the suggestion of Yuuri who was beyond on board with whatever it was Yuri was planning. 

And by nine am the next morning back at home, Yuuri had been proven right. 

The site itself nearly crashed the moment Yuri logged in to check, with bated breath, whether his crazy little plan had created any actual traction. 

Which it did. 

 _Oh,_ that it did. 

They were in the _thousands,_ money-wise and it had only _been_ about a day and a half? 

He scrolled, absolutely _floored_ at the sheer amount of people donating. 

And then he saw it, one of the names on the long list that stood out to some part of his brain that was in charge of burying unwanted memories. 

 **_FTSH-C19_ **).

Was this actually for real? 

Were _they_ for real?

His confusion only grew as his eyes roamed to the side to see the frankly _staggering_ amount donated by said group. 

 **_₽63800.10($1,000.00)_ **.

The twenty-five _teenagers_ that made up the entirety of Lyceum FTSH’s year 12 had donated sixty-three thousand some Rubles. 

They’d somehow managed sixty-three thousand in a day and a half. And while he knew that his classmates and the students attending FTSH were all _very_ well off and could _easily_ drop ₽2552.00($40.00), the fact that his entire class had banded together to pull it off was both astonishing and a little moving, he couldn’t help the wary skepticism in the back of his head. 

How had they known about the whole blitz?

Why were they donating? 

Was it of _their_ own accord or was it another headmaster backed attempt at publicity?

He sat staring at the glowing screen of his laptop left hand tapping absentmindedly on the soft duvet he was snuggled under, propped up against the bed’s headboard. 

And then it hit him. 

Of _course_! It was the first place he should have checked to begin with. 

His fingers raced across the screen on a mission to find _that_ account. The one he outright avoided from day 1 when _they_ followed _him_. 

Yuri didn’t reciprocate. 

It was enough that he didn’t block them. At least, that was what he told himself at that time when he was still a concentrated ball of anxious fury about his seemingly bleak future. 

But this piqued his curiosity. 

Which was why he posted without another thought. He _genuinely_ wanted to know. 

The why, who, and hows of the surprising generosity and support. 

He wasn't stupid. He knew that they knew that he wasn't at _all_ interested in fitting and making friends. 

Once they realized who he was, it took mere seconds to realize just why he was there at all; blackmailed into attending while his own parents kept his skating future hostage. 

And then there was the leaked program. 

Unbeknownst to Yuri, the culprit had actually been caught and confronted, and while no one came forward with a name, they'd put their heads together to think of how to apologize. 

They had to think harder once the whole concern meeting was held with the school to dismiss Plisetsky with a suspension. They'd found Giacometti's Livestream and watched in sympathetic anger and disapproval of their own headmaster and the directors making an absolute fool of themselves while trying, and failing, to blackmail the teen with the threat of ending his career and letting his parents win. 

 _That_ had been a whole new level of petty and disgusting. 

And then there was the arrest of his guardian slash teammate. 

That had been around the time where the news mill started cranking out gossip predictions about how their bid for the, then, upcoming Rostelecom Cup was under fire. 

They'd _really_ felt for the guy after that, but it just kept going. 

There was the trial, which was good, followed by a few days of silence before Loitin had yet another brilliant idea. 

They'd really _really_ not wanted to do it. 

The school had already done enough damage as it was, and they knew that they screwed Plisetsky over as well. So the obviously right choice would have been to just let things go.

But Headmaster Loitin had been _adamant_ , scrambling to fox the school's PR after the failed trial. 

So they trudged over to the familiar rink, holding signs they didn't make and flowers they didn't buy hoping against all hope that things would end quickly. 

But as fate would have it, it wasn't going to be that simple. 

They met the cameraman outside the rink and knew things would go south _very quickly_ the moment he lead them in through the back, popping the lock with practiced ease. 

Breaking and entering had been bad enough, but the moment Plisetsky spotted them, it got _worse_. 

They knew that he was angry and that they weren't welcome. 

They knew they were trespassing into what _should_ have been an area of privacy, not to be paraded around or stared at like some sort of exhibit in museums. 

And then Yuri went down, and for a moment, no one breathed. 

Shit. 

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

And in an almost ironic moment of Deja vous, someone had filmed and uploaded something they shouldn't have. 

Because after everything Plisetsky had been through, he deserved at _least_ that much respect. 

But Yuri was (un)blissfully unaware of all of _that_. Especially the punches that had been thrown from the most recent incident. 

What he _did_ know was that someone had actually responded? 

He tapped on the notification and froze for a moment, brain short-circuiting for a solid minute.

_Interesting._

So it really _was_ a ‘just the students’ thing…

He took a few extra moments to snap out of the initial surprise before posting a reply. 

He smirked, noticing that the reply by FTCH_C19 was starting to pick up momentum, growing in likes and retweets with a few curious comments thrown in. 

They may have managed to crack the first icy layer, but he wasn’t appeased. 

Not _just_ yet, anyway. 

He didn’t even have to wait a full minute before he saw the newest reply. 

_Oh_.

He nearly flipped the laptop in rush of adrenaline. 

Oh _yes_ . Karma really _was_ sweet. 

And as much as he hated to admit it, he _did_ actually snort a sort of smile once he saw the newest addition to the Twitter conversation.

And for a moment, the last few days slipped from his mind giving him the opportunity to just relax. 

* * *

 “You do know that I’m not a student there anymore, right? There’s no PTA power you get for this.” Yuri rolled his eyes, but it lacked the normal irritation that really gave it power. He’d wandered down for some water and a stretch, tailed by Makka who kept a steady distance ever since he accidentally dropped one of his crutches.

“I was going to make a donation and then I realized that they don’t deserve all that. But these kids, your ex-classmates, _they_ definitely do deserve something.” 

Victor shrugged, adding yet _another_ pizza to the virtual cart, hesitating before making it two for good measure, leaning forward in his seat on one of the dining room chairs. 

“There’s only like twenty-five kids. They won’t need _fifty_ boxes. You’re being overzealous.” his brows furrowed in a mixture of disbelief and judgment. 

“They can each get two.”

“They won’t be able to eat _both_.”

“I beg to differ. Christophe and I polished about three-ish boxes after one world championship when we were around eighteen-nineteenish years old.”

Yuri recoiled, grimacing at the thought. 

“That’s beyond disgusting! So much _grease_.”

Victor shrugged again, casually adding fifteen big sodas to the cart as well. 

“It was after the banquet and we had two weeks off after that. What I’m _trying_ to say is that it _is_ possible to eat that much.” 

“Yeah, as an _athlete_ ,” Yuri argued back half-heartedly. He knew he was fighting a losing fight. 

“Hmm... Well, I’m sure they’ll figure it out. It should get there at about lunchtime.” he gave Yuri a wide smile and thumbs up. 

“I can’t believe you just spent ₽21510.00($337.28) on a tweet…” he facepalmed once he realizing the confirmation page on Victor’s laptop. 

“Actually, I technically ₽22287.”

“What?’ 

“For lunch.”

Yuri blanked for a moment until realization hit. 

His eyes narrowed marginally before he sighed, deciding to just drop it. There was no use. 

“Lighten up, _Yura_. You’re on vacation!” 

“It hasn’t even been three hours since I’ve been discharged. The fuck is this _vacation_.”

“I never said it was a fun vacation~” 

“Are you fu-” Yuri took a deep breath, cutting himself off to pinch the bridge of his nose to ward off the impending headache, 

“Victor? Did you just spend three-fifty on _pizza_?!” Yuuri’s voice rang out from the living room. 

Victor paused a moment, head tilting just so before he opened another window, fingers flying across the keyboard as he typed in the amount on an exchange calculator. 

“It’s more like three hundred-forty nine dollars and forty-six cents, love! But we should settle on three hundred-fifty four dollars and forty-six cents with the tip!” he answered back jovially. 

“Vitya! We’ve talked about this!” 

Yuri smirked, basking in vindication- 

“You should always order a vegetarian option for the non-meat eaters as well!” 

-before having it ripped away so fast he felt a mental whiplash. 

Victor smirked back, quirking a defiant brow. 

“Oops.”

* * *

 His phone lit up around 12 with a notification like he suspected it would. 

He didn’t even have to read it to guess who it was, but he did anyway, as he munched away on his own slice of cheese pizza before turning the phone to face Victor. 

“Look at that, you’re officially a _dad_ ” Yuri snorted, tone obviously mocking. 

*“Daddy.” Victor didn’t miss a beat, casually taking a sip of soda after _that_ appalling comment. 

“Jesus _fucking_ christ-” Yuuri couldn’t hold back the snort as he watched the blonde scrub a hand down his face before just pitching forward, face-palming, abandoning his unfinished slice altogether. 

“It’s more like _Victor’s_ fucking _Yuuri_. Or the other way around. Or both, actually.” Victor shot back, putting his glass down gently. 

“But more importantly, does this sudden interest in fucking mean you’re ready for _the talk_ ?” he, full-body turned just in time to see mortification turn to outright _horror_ at what the older was implying.       

“I-" he blinked, snapping out of the horror to move on to dry bemusement. 

"It's the painkillers. I'm probably high as fuck-" he glared into his glass of cola. 

"I'm high and none of this is actually happening." he nodded firmly like he was trying to convince  _himself_ of the fact.

"But Y-"

The blonde brought up a hand, cutting Victor off abruptly. 

"Shhh. Shut up." 

"I'll ground you." Victor rebutted in mock indignation.

"Ground me and I'll dye your hair black." Yuri answered, completely emotionless. 

 "You  _wouldn't_!" Victor gasped indignantly, hands flying up to his soft platinum locks.

"Try me,  _daddy_ -okay, no. nonono. Gross. I fucked up." he gagged. 

"That's more  _my_ line, don't you think?" Yuuri quirked a brow, teasing mercilessly as he watched Yuri try his best not to self combust if the color of his cheeks were anything to go by.

"And  _that's_ where I fucking get up and  _leave_ , you disgusting shits." 

He stood, taking his plate of unfinished pizza and dumped it into the trash.

"Get a room!" he shouted, walking away to the sound of laughter. 

He'd  _never_ be the same again... _Ever._

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *from a post on Insta called @twttrstrs that I just couldn't pass up.  
> Yuri: "yEs daD"  
> Victor: *daddy  
> ________________________________________
> 
> I 100% believe Victor would be this sort of EXTRA dad  
> ________________________________________. 
> 
> Fun fact: One time I went to Cici's Pizza(?) and saw these guys from a HS football team each eat like two pizzas and multiple cups of soda one sitting. So I have a feeling that three pizzas would actually be possible.


	27. Chapter 27

“Wow, Yuri. You’re at about  ₽ 639555.00 ($10,000.00) right now." 

" ₽ 639555.00!?"

"Yeah, it really jumped since this morning."

Yuuri held up his phone for Yuri to see, reaching to the coffee table for his cup of coffee as well. 

The blonde nearly fell straight off the sofa at the sight of the numbers. 

"Oh, this is  _ good. _ " He muttered with a small but genuine smile. 

"Might not even have to stop at three…"

"Three?" 

Yuri pulled back, snapping back into reality. 

And the reality was that he really  _ really  _ wasn't liking the pain medication because he'd done nothing but nap on and off and it was  _ still  _ making him feel a little fuzzy around the edges. 

"Huh?" 

Especially with small talk…

"You said three," Yuuri answered, looking a little unsure at the spacy answer. 

"Oh, yeah. Uh- it-this whole thing is- _ was _ a just in case type thing but…" 

He scrubbed a hand down his face. The words were there but they  _ weren't  _ and it was getting irritating as hell. 

But then again, the pain he felt in the hour he decided to  _ not  _ take the prescribed dosage was unpleasant, to say the least. 

Like a smack in the face once the previous dose had worn out. 

He was stronger than this, damn it! 

So he took a deep breath and looked older skater square in the eye. 

"It's a-a  _ fund _ ? I think that's the word. For the junior skaters that  _ those people  _ decided to sponsor." 

"Oh…?" 

"It's because I have- _ had  _ a feeling their whole plan was going to be shit. They're just like that." 

Yuuri winced before fully registering the whole of the statement.

"Wait,  _ had _ a feeling?" He asked, clearly startled. 

"It's a violation of business ethics laws." 

_ That  _ certainly sent Yuuri for a loop. 

"H-you know business ethics?" 

Yuri shrugged. 

"The company got in trouble for something ethics-related a few years back. I thought it would come back to me so I researched it pretty thoroughly." 

Yuuri just stared in mild shock. 

"This "fund" wasn't a donation. They took it straight out of the company's yearly expenses. I saw the bank statement. It's going to bounce very soon. It happened then too. That and the fact that they named it after  _ me  _ without my permission or technically your and Victor's permission as my guardians..."

He shrugged again. 

"I mean it-it hasn't been realized yet, but it will, and those kids are gonna be left with nothing, and  _ that _ isn't going to fucking fly. So I figured I could help out. I'm not letting those shirts fuck up anyone else's life." The latter was muttered with a quieter anger and conviction. 

"That-that's  _ amazing, _ Yura. Honestly! That's so mature of you." He would be lying to say he  _ didn't  _ feel at least a  _ little  _ choked up at the sudden emotional realization. 

"Don't you dare cry on me, Katsuki." 

Yuuri just beamed, giggling as he wiped at his suddenly watery eyes. 

"Sorry, sorry. I just- that's so… so touching. Especially after everything that's happened."

Yuri looked away, twiddling with the sleeves of the oversized hoodie. 

_ Otabek's  _ hoodie. 

"I'm not going to let them mess up other people's lives anymore. That's for sure. They deserve some chaos in their lives, and I'm more than happy to deliver." 

There was a layer of steely determination set under the quiet, something both Yuuri and Victor had come to realize. 

Yuri Plisetsky had changed in more ways than physically over the years they'd known him. 

The brash and bold pubescent adolescence had slowly but surely given way into more grounded and sure confidence that really set itself apart. 

He was talented. That was undeniable, and thankfully exponential in growth over the years. 

He continued to get better through the weird in-between growth spurt and hormonal rage, and the end product was honestly amazing. 

He was pulling off feats that pushed even Victor's amazing accomplishments at the same age. 

He was crushing competition after completion after record and they, Victor and Yuuri, were both here living for it. 

But in addition to the skating, the end of puberty and the raging hormones brought about a stability that brought another aspect of him to light. 

Yuri Plisetsky was, in all honesty,  _ very  _ smart. He really was, but it was something that wasn't very well known, outshined by his extraordinary abilities on ice. 

so the fact that he'd thought of all of this and brought it to fruition himself, it was both surprising but not surprising at the same time. 

"So you've been fundraising for them this entire time?"

"Yeah." It was followed by a non-committal grunt. 

"It'll help with the whole Twitter situation as well. They've taken a shit load of hate over the past couple of days. I need  _ everyone  _ to know that I  _ don't  _ hate them and that they need to lay off hating on  _ kids _ . They're  _ juniors _ for fuck's sake."

He threw his hands up in irritation before sinking back into a deadpan stare. 

"I-I'm not crying, I swear!" He continued to stare as Yuuri half-heartedly continued to sniffle, jumping as the phone still in his hand started blaring the first few notes of his Barcelona sp. 

"Victor?"

Yuri quirked a challenging brow at the noticeable wobble in the man's voice. 

Yuuri pointedly looked away, clearing his throat before looking back. 

"Do you want soup or dumplings?"

_ "Or pizza or burgers-"  _ Victor's muffled voice rang out

"I'm not h-"

_ "Wrong answer-" _

It was said with the same flippancy as the choices were given but no one missed the sudden colder edge. 

"I don't have a preference." He retracted, displeasure more than evident in the way it was spat. 

"Or Yuri and I could go grab some groceries and make dinner at home. We're only skipping Rostelecom, Vitya. We're still in the competition season." Yuuri responded gently. 

"It'll be good driving practice as well." He added.

" _ Oh, that's right! You have a car now too" _

“Mhmm.” Yuuri hummed in agreement. 

“ _ Is it safe-” _

“I sprained an ankle, idiot. I’m not dying.”

“ _ It was sleeting a few hours ago-” _

“And?”

“ _ You’re on crutches.” _

“Meaning I can still walk.” 

There was a beat of silence on Victor’s end before he capitulated.

“ _ Alright, but be careful!” _

_________

“Don’t panic, alright? Hey. Look at me-” lithe fingers grabbed on to either side of the pale face, staring back at panicked brown eyes, hoping the owner of said eyes would just calm the  _ fuck  _ down because too many things were happening at once and it was starting to give him a headache. 

“I’m fine. You’re fine. We- это не касается тебя.Вали отсюда!”(This doesn’t concern you. Get lost!) he hissed, switching to rapid-fire Russian at the poor idiot who managed to topple the blonde over to begin with.

Technically, it had been the entire group of unfortunately familiar teens, but one of them had stood rooted to the spot, obviously not getting the message when the group scrambled away once they realized just who it was they’d bumped into.

“ Он-Он в порядке…? _ Ты _ в порядке?”(Is-is he alright...? Are  _ you  _ alright? ) the curly-haired blonde stammered out, unable to look away from the older skater who looked like he was about to have an absolute aneurysm, or at Yuri still seated in an awkward position near the toppled over cart and groceries.

Yuri sighed in irritation, willing himself to hold on for just a moment longer. The guy was genuinely concerned and probably contrite as well. But the fucking  _ odds _ . 

_ Christ,  _ he was probably cursed or something…

“мы в порядке. Просто-просто иди.”(We are fine. Just-just go.) he answered neutrally, reaching for his scattered crutches before hauling himself up, using his crutches as leverage to pull the empty cart back up as well. 

He kept his mouth shut as the other blonde darted around, grabbing the various missing groceries from off of the floor before setting them gently back into their cart. 

“Спасибо”(Thank you.) Yuri muttered, not wasting another moment. He grabbed on to the front of Yuuri’s jacket, hauling the man forward and to the cart with surprising strength, all but shoving him into moving. 

“Забудь об этом.”(Forget this happened) he tossed over his shoulder, not pausing for a moment. 

_____

They’d made it through the rest of their list, checked out and loaded the groceries in the car before Yuuri had taken one look at the exhausted semi-pain pinched lines of Yuri’s pale face before pulling out his phone.

“I’m fine.”

Yuuri quirked a disagreeing brow, not even bothering to buckle up just yet.

“Look. I didn’t land on my injured leg. The cart didn’t fall on me. I literally just went into a stationary sit spin-” Yuri argued, sitting in the passenger’s seat. His frown was becoming more pronounced as his attention wavered between Yuuri and the phone in the man’s hand.

“-so there’s no  _ need  _ to call Victor or Yakov or the hospital or  _ anybody _ , so just put the phone down and  _ listen _ !” 

“I saw the angle you went down on, Yura! You’re on some pretty strong meds, so you probably can’t feel it now, but that doesn’t mean nothing happened!” 

“ _ I  _ was the one who fell. I know what happened!” 

“You went down with the cart!” 

“ _ With _ not  _ under _ !”

“Same-”

Their quiet but merciless argument was interrupted by a sudden in-coming call that had both of them staring in wary confusion.

“He said he’d be home by seven...” Yuri didn’t take his eyes off the still ringing phone.

“It’s only six-fifteen…” Yuuri answered hesitating a moment longer before answering, putting the man on speaker.

“Vitya? Are you back home already? We’re still at the store.” 

“No, I’m still at the rink-where’s Yura?” there was an underlying edge of worry coating the casualness. 

The two made confused eye contact before Yuri answered. 

“Where do you think I’d be?” he snapped back, but it was missing the usual bite, thrown too __ off track at the sudden question.

“Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be…?” 

“Oh,  _ good _ . Then maybe you can explain what FTSH 19 is talking about.” 

 “FTSH 19?”

“You know, your class’s twitter.”

“What?”

The phone dinged as it received a new message. 

 

_ Oh. _

One job. He gave them  _ one  _ job…

Yuri sighed in aggravation.

He really should just report the page and get them shut down and over with… 

“It’s a joke.”

His own phone pinged in his pocket, alerting him of a twitter notification.

“Seriously?!”

“It doesn’t have to be this difficult.”

Ping!

__

ping!

Ping!

Ping!

Ping!

“Are we really doing this right now?” Yuuri asked in obvious bemusement. 

Neither of the other two answered. 

And then there was another ping from Yuuri’s own phone. 

“Oh my god…” 

His fingers flew across the screen to type his own response. 

Ping!

  
There was silence in the car following the gut-punch ending to the frankly childish twitter argument.

"Seatbelt on, Yuri." the blonde didn't hesitate to comply. 

"Now, here's the game plan." Yuuri started, hands gripping the wheel, arms straight sounding eerily neutral. 

"Yuri and I are going to get home now. Vitya, what time are you coming back again?" 

"S-seven." 

Yuuri nodded. 

"You'll home by seven, and you-" he turned to face Yuri who couldn't help but recoil just a little bit at the scary calm.

"You're going to  _rest_ until dinner. And then you can have the night dose of your prescription and then we can all have a  _peaceful_ rest of the night. Sounds good?" 

"Yes." Victor and Yuri answered in synchro immediately. 

"Good."

He turned the key and started the car. 

"And if I hear any more alerts from  _any_ of your social media, both of you, so help me god... Even Yakov won't be able to save you."

And with that, he put the car into reverse and stomped on the gas.

   
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Kind of OC? I'm working on it!  
> Get ready for disfunctional podium fam


End file.
